Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
by Ashura no Miko
Summary: Following the Gundam Wing story line from beginning to Endless Waltz, FTE chronicles the lives and relationship of Heero and Duo, in an attempt to create an in-character portrayal of a possible romance between the two.
1. I Love You

**Fumbling Towards Ecstasy**  
by Ashura no Miko  
  
**Part One: I Love You** _[I have a smile stretched from ear to ear,  
to see you walking down the street.]_  
  
    He was huddled in the dark, and he was freezing. No light came through the thick metal walls, leaving the boy in pitch black. Pitch, pitch black. He could almost believe that he really was coated in pitch, the tar restricting his movements like the dried blood covering his skin, cracking and pinching with each twitch of muscle. He struggled to pull open his eyes, eyelashes crusted together with the dried mucus his eyes had produced during the night. Or the day. He couldn't even tell how much time had passed. Frankly, he was too tired to care, too sick. He had caught some kind of severe cold since he had gotten here, but he couldn't tell how serious it was. It wasn't surprising, considering they had left him in a cold, cramped cell for God knew how many days. And after being beaten by OZ soldier for information on the Gundams, his immune system just wasn't up to dealing with the dankness of the cell, especially with no food to sustain it. It wasn't hard for him to figure that out, and to figure out that unless he was able to get some treatment somehow, he'd probably die in this cell. The congestion was rattling in his chest, along with his broken ribs, pushing sorely against his lungs. If he survived, they'd probably have to be re-broken to heal properly. He hated re-breaking bones. But with any luck, he wouldn't have to.  
  
    He wasn't stupid, he knew someone was being sent for him now, someone from his own team. After all, he was a soldier, and he knew that any mouth that might speak would have to be instantly silenced. And without his precious partner, his now captive Gundam, he would be almost useless to Operation Meteor. And a soldier without a purpose was worthless.  
  
    Duo pushed himself into a sitting position against the wall, not making a sound as the motion tore into the muscles at his side. A dizzying vertigo hit him as he moved, spots dancing in front of his eyes for a moment, blurring him vision, the tips of his fingers going warm and numb. He was going to pass out soon - he needed to eat. His body had been running on empty for awhile now. If he hoped to escape, he'd need food, anything, just some kind of sustenance. Maybe that was why they were starving him like this. Or maybe they had just forgotten him. A lot of people seemed to be doing that lately.  
  
    '_Heero...mm...your name is Heero. It would have been nice if you had introduced yourself to me like you should have. You know my name, Heero, so why don't you ever remember it? It's always just 'Hey you', and I know you could remember it if you wanted to...if you wanted to._' Duo chuckled dryly, but he was still smiling. He was always smiling. Nothing could make him stop smiling to the world. It was an easy mask that none could see through. He hadn't even stopped when the guards had hit him, except for when he was unconscious that is. And that couldn't really be helped, now could it?  
  
Could it?  
  
  
_[We meet at the lights,  
I stare for a while.]_   
  
    The thick, metal cell door side to the side with a swish, and light spilled into the small prison. Duo flinched and closed his eyes, stinging with the sudden light. During that pause, when Duo waited for his eyes to adjust, he noticed something. He wasn't being hauled up. In fact, who ever had opened the door hadn't even said anything yet.  
  
    Duo blinked blearily, waiting for the fuzzy silhouette to clear. When it did, he found a gun pointed at his head. He didn't jump, he wasn't even surprised. After all, he would either be killed by OZ for being an enemy, or killed by his own side, for getting caught. So he just looked up at the gun, letting his eyes travel over the bare arm holding it, to the green tank top, to the cold blue eyes half shaded by dark brown bangs.  
  
    "...yo'...Heero." Duo muttered almost sleepily. It was amazing how he never let his pride fail him. He wouldn't even let the Wing pilot see how much pain he was in, although it must have been rather obvious. He still smiled. "It's good that you're here...they would have used the Gundam and I against the colonies...so you have to stop them." Duo winced as his arrogance forced him to his feet. He wouldn't face Heero sitting down. It was a battle of who was better between them, and even if Heero killed him, he'd die tied with the other pilot. He wouldn't let the Japanese boy win this game. "...saa...I was destined to be killed by you."  
  
    There was a long pause, as Heero stared at Duo's smiling lips. Duo kept his eyes shut, waiting for the shot that would hit him any moment...any moment...any-...?  
  
    "...naa...Heero...are you going to do it?"  
  
    _'Aren't you going to do it...Heero...?'_  
  
    Another pause, they stared at one another, and for once, Duo wasn't smiling.  
  
    >"Only if you want me to." Heero answered in monotone.  
  
    _'...only if I want to die huh?'_  
  
    "Your right arm is fine." Heero tossed the gun at him, and Duo deftly caught the handle, his arm moving automatically, not even really registering that he had caught it. Heero knelt to pick up the dead guard's gun, then turned back to Duo. He slung his arm around the injured pilot's waist and Duo's arm went around his neck. Heero hadn't even asked if he needed help, and for that Duo was grateful. He didn't have to admit weakness to him. They were still even.  
  
    "...where is your Gundam?"  
  
    "I left it on earth." Heero replied, looking both ways. "It sticks out too much in space. I could have gotten caught like you did."     There it was, the jibe. Score one for Heero. Now Heero was winning, and Duo's pride winced. Somehow, that hurt more than his actual injuries. He changed the topic.  
  
    "So how are we going to get out of here?"  
  
    "I don't know. I planned to kill you, not rescue you."  
  
    "And if we're both killed?"  
  
    "...then two mouths will be silenced."  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_[The world around us disappears.  
Just you and me on this island of hope,  
A breath between us could be miles.]_  
  
    Duo shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed, listening to it crinkle like paper under him. He had slept on much more unpleasant things before, and he would have killed for a mattress like this when he was growing up, so it wasn't that which made him uncomfortable. It was the height. He was hardly afraid of heights(after all, he worked in a Gundam) but the thought of actually sleeping this far off the ground was just...odd. It didn't seem right somehow. Unnatural. The gown didn't help. It was short and itchy, and he was getting a draft. It made him feel even more vulnerable than he already was. And feeling vulnerable was not a feeling he liked. He hated feeling weak, especially in front of Heero.  
  
    He looked at the stoic boy, leaning against the opposite wall of the small room. They were alone, Heero telling him about the next mission he would be going on.  
  
    Duo listened to it, taking it in, yet at the same time almost ignoring it. Then he found himself speaking. In reply to something, though what it was didn't seem important.  
  
    "Why aren't I going with you?"  
  
    "Don't come with me. You'll be in my way." Heero replied without pause, his voice as monotone as before. Like he were reading unimportant orders.  
  
    "What did you say? I know it's my fault my body is weak. But can't you find a nicer way to say it?" Duo sighed dramatically. Honestly, he didn't care. He never really cared. Especially now, when he didn't understand why he had spoken in the first place. It was better that he wasn't on a mission. He did need time to recoup, and he hated working with someone else. He worked alone. Solo.  
  
    "...you should rest, you need to take care of your body."  
  
    Duo jumped a bit, lifting his chin off his hands and looking at the other boy's turned back. He hadn't expected a reply to his remark. His joking remark. Heero didn't say anything unless he thought it was important. There was no such thing as small talk in his world. Not that Duo liked it, but at least he was plugged in enough to see it's importance. Duo looked at the floor. He had assumed something about Heero, one that was apparently wrong. The Wing pilot looked at him pointedly. Glared was more like it. Duo bit his lower lip.  
  
    Duo blinked a bit and looked up. He had assumed that Heero didn't have any feelings, and that he didn't care about anything except his mission, because that's what it appeared like on the surface. But on Heero's end, he had assumed that Duo was not devoted and inexperienced, just because he was always smiling.  
  
    "My body's fine. If it weren't, I'd be dead." Duo replied snidely after a pause, and Heero turned around the rest of the way to look at him. For a moment, a crack of confusion slid through the hard mask, and Duo's smile broke. For a split second they actually looked at one another, then they turned away. Duo's head turned to the right, and Heero's to the left, not only looking away, but in separate directions.  
  
    The door clicked shut and Duo looked up. He was alone again.  
  


* * *

  
  
_[Let me surround you, my sea to your shore.  
Let me be the calm you seek.]_  
  
    Duo watched him. The Shinigami hadn't expected to find Heero here. Back on Earth again, in this place. It wasn't anywhere odd, just a suburb of a city. No where special. But that he happened to see that dark head of hair made it different. Maybe he could win back his lost ground now. He wouldn't be weak in Heero's eyes.  
  
    Heero's noticed him when he rounded the bend, and Duo looked over at him, braid flipped over one shoulder. Heero's eyes narrowed at him, and they studied one another for awhile. It occurred to Duo that they weren't just studying, they were judging. Their competition was silent and yet so very obvious, even twenty yards away. Who would be the first to slip. Duo's grin widened a bit, without him even noticing. The more mask, the less weakness. He wouldn't - He _couldn't_ be weak in Heero's eyes.  
  
    The American sauntered towards the Japanese pilot, his pace slow, leisurely, and most of all, casual. It was important that they just look like two normal people, talking on the street, and not two terrorist soldiers who may or may not kill one another at the slightest provocation. Heero watched him closely as he walked, and Duo knew what he was sizing him up for. Where could he hide a gun? A knife? A bomb? Anything that could be used as a weapon. Duo snorted slightly.  
  
    "Now now, Heero, it would be silly to play that kind of game in the middle of a crowd, wouldn't it?" Duo said with a grin as he stopped in front of the Japanese pilot. Duo's eyes didn't waver. He knew Heero wouldn't start anything here, and Heero undoubtedly had thought of that too. But still, it was impossible to tell for sure, through both of their impenetrable masks. In the end, it came down to one thing in Duo's mind. If Heero wanted to kill him now, there wasn't much chance of him getting away. So he just excepted it. He might as well look calm and cool when he went down, after all.  
  
    Heero's eyes didn't waver for a moment, then he nodded. He began walking again, and Duo had no choice but to fall in step with him. For a long time, they were silent. Heero wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Duo just didn't feel like blabbing about nothing. So they just walked for a long time. Duo glanced at him, and felt himself slip a little more. He resolutely stopped and turned away.  
  
    He didn't look back to see if Heero had noticed. He probably hadn't.  
  
_[Oh and every time I'm close to you,  
there's too much I can't say...]_  
  


* * *

  
  
    Duo pressed his face into the space made between his propped up knees. Deathscythe's harness pulled against him harshly as he tried to curl up in the cockpit chair, but he didn't notice it. After a long pause, he reached out and tapped a few buttons on the console. There was a faint whir as the computer sent the mission data back to the main circuit computer for storage. Had he been one of the other pilots, he would have been sending it back to his respective scientist. But he was the Shinigami, the only pilot who never received mission orders.  
  
    "...Shinigami is not a hero or mass murderer." He repeated to himself. He wouldn't let his partner become either. That's why he had stolen him from Dr. G. Though Dr. G had been the one who told him to steal it. It was still theft - because Duo Maxwell never accepted charity. And because he had stolen it, he operated on his own missions, staying out of contact with the scientists, and the other Gundam pilots for the most part.  
  
     And that was why he was so confused.  
  
    He tapped the buttons on the console again. He watched as the incoming transmissions appeared on his front view screen, and tapped the cursor down to 'Unknown source', and opened the file, watching the recorded message again.   
Heero's face appeared on the screen, his glare hard set, and yet some how hesitant. Well, really, he didn't look hesitant at all. Duo just liked to imagine he did. It made him feel a bit better, even though those prussian blue eyes were as cold as ice as they drilled into him.  
  
    "...Find me." The screen blanked. There had been a pause before Heero had spoken, but it wasn't a softening pause. It was just pause before beginning the sentence, as if he was debating whether to say it or not. Whether it was worth it or not.  
  
     Those little nuances of people were his specialty. Each little inflection, each gesture, he learned a little more. And maybe it was just coming slower this time, but he was learning to read this stoic boy. And he'd learn to read him completely if it killed him.  
  
    "And it will, won't it Heero? I told you I was destined to be killed by you." Duo unfolded his legs, and rested his feet on the console, staring challengingly at the video screen, bringing up the recording again. "This time I'll know what to say to you. Cause I won't let you win. All the things I need to do...the things I need to say. Even if I don't know what they are yet, I'll figure it out." Duo paused, then looked away from the screen. He looked to his right, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Heero looking left, just before the recording faded to static.  
  
  
_[...and you just walk away.]_  
    At first, Duo had no idea where to look. Heero was a very hard person to locate - he covered every trace and trail. But Duo learned that when Heero wanted to be found, he opened one specific trail that only one specific person would find.  
  
    "Very clever Heero..." He leaned back in the cockpit chair, tapping on the console.  
  
    To any one else, it would look like a normal student record, but for Duo, it held all the information he needed. Student Duo Maxwell, transferring out. Only it wasn't the braided boy's face that appeared with the profile, it was Heero's.  
  
    "How flattering Heero, you used my name. Or is that how I am supposed to find you? Hm..." Duo smirked a bit and turned the view screen back to the outer camera's, looking at Deathscythe Hell's surroundings. Of course, it wasn't that easy. Duo had found Heero's current location hidden in the information on the fees. 'Two payments coming from Tentora, one coming from Luxembourg.'  
  
    Two. Duo. Pilot 02. And easy code, so easy that an expert would miss it. And Duo was in Tentora now. He briefly wondered how Heero had discovered his location, but dismissed it. It wasn't important, besides, there were plenty of ways for him to figure it out. After that, the rest of the code was simple. Heero was Pilot 01, and his name meant the one and only, so he was in Luxembourg. Duo sighed and pulled the harness over his shoulders and around his waist, tightening it until he was snug in the seat. He closed the ramp hatch door, and waited as he listened to Shinigami's engines fire up.  
  
    This time, he would find Heero. And somehow, they'd both stay.  
  
_[And I forgot to tell you  
I love you.]_  
  
    This, Duo decided, was the oddest turn of events in his life. He was holding Heero pinned against the wall, one hand holding Heero's wrists together above his head, the other hand pressed against the Wing pilots face.  
  
    And he was kissing him.  
  
    In all honesty, he wasn't sure who was kissing who, or why, but he knew that he had started it, and Heero had joined in after a few seconds of hesitation. Duo was more than fairly strong, but he knew that if Heero wanted to, he could easily throw him off. But he didn't. Duo paused and pulled away from the other boy, looking at him. Heero looked at him neutrally, and if Duo could say, unsure. Another bomb shook the ground, nearby, and the walls shuddered around them. Duo turned his head sharply to look out the window, looking at the billows if red smoke rising into the night sky.  
  
    He blinked when he felt something lean against him, and looked down at Heero's head, resting in the crook of his neck. There had been no grief, barely any expression at all in Heero's eyes a moment ago, but it didn't take tears to convince him. The posture was enough.  
  
    Duo prided himself in being able to read the hardest of people, and it was easy to see this. It was a posture of comfort, of hiding. Heero buried his head deeper into the curve of his shoulder as the room shuddered around them again. Duo released his wrists slowly, and Heero's arms fell limply to his sides. With a long pause and periods of hesitation, Duo lifted his arms to slowly encircle Heero's body. Outside, he could hear the hotel manager yelling for evacuation, but Duo ignored it. After all, it had been Heero himself who had set those bombs, and the raid wouldn't reach this far out, not this night.  
  
    Outside, Luxembourg burned. One of the hand-full of cities that had survived since the twentieth century, it was now falling apart, the screams of the soldiers and civilians alike rising in the air like the moan of the dying. They were dying, and by morning, they'd be dead. The mission had been to destroy the base located in the center of Luxembourg...but once that was done, no matter how carefully the bombs were placed, the fire would spread to the rest of the city.  
  
    Civilians...innocents. No one had to remind Duo that it was wrong for them to die, but it happened sometimes. He knew it happened. He had been forced to kill innocents sometimes to...it was just something that happened in a war, even as wrong as it was.  
  
    Duo's breath stilled in his throat as thin, strong arms suddenly came up to crush his body to the other boy. Heero didn't lift his head. Duo breathed again, and a bit of sadness accompanied the pain in his eyes.  
  
    "...H-Heero...too tight...Heero..." He whispered desperately, feeling his still healing ribs wince at the painful embrace. There was a pause, and Heero seemed to register his words, because his arms slackened slightly, but didn't release Duo. Duo looked down at the dark brown head of hair with confused eyes.  
  
    This wasn't why Heero had called him here. He had been silly to think it was simply for their game. When he had opened the door, he had faced the barrel of a gun. Heero wanted to kill him. It was why he had invited him here in the first place. Duo had stood there, and waited to die. If Heero wanted to kill him, he wouldn't bother stopping him. This was how it was supposed to happen. But Heero wasn't suppose to lower his gun. Heero wasn't supposed to look at him with those wounded, confused eyes. He wasn't supposed to accept Duo's support, to accept his touch when he reached out for him. And most of all, he wasn't supposed to be like this. To hold him like this, to ask for his comfort.  
  
    Comfort that Duo gave without thought.  
  


* * *

_[And the night's too long and cold  
here without you.]_  
  
    Duo lifted his arm and let it drop to the dingy sheets beside him. He wrapped his fingers around the cloth, twisting them absently. He watched them avidly, observing the shadows formed by each fold. He sighed and released the sheets beside him, pulling them up to cover his shoulders slightly. He was tired. He had just finished an attack that night, and he was tired. He wanted to sleep, yet no matter how long he closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, even enough to pull his heart-rate down into a sleep pattern, he couldn't seem to get his brain to stop working.  
  
    He yawned, bringing more oxygen to his restless mind. He shifted again, the third time in five minutes, trying to find a bit more warmth. He wasn't usually cold. Cold was something he was used to, and yet...he felt disturbed now. He lifted his hand to ruffle the unused sheets next to him again, as though to make them look like they had been used. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't the same.  
  
    Why the hell did he feel so different?  
  
_[I grieve in my condition  
for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so.]_     He threw the sheets off and sat up quickly, planting his feet on the floor. He mumbled incoherent complaints at himself as he stood and walked to the small bathroom attached to his room. He didn't bother closing the door as he stepped in, leaning against the counter. After all, it wasn't as if he were sharing a room with anyone. He laughed bitterly, then looked at himself in the mirror.  
  
    Hard, accusing violet eyes met his, a harsh smirk spread across his face. His loose, chestnut hair fell over his shoulders and along his back, some of it pooling on the counter top. And for a long time, he just stayed like that, until the shaking in his arms became too much, and he sank to the counter top. Bent over at the waist, his head resting on his arms, he laugh bitterly. He sighed in relief to find he wasn't hysterical. It wasn't a crazy laugh, and he was glad he was still sane. He was just angry. Just like that he had let Heero do what ever he pleased. Didn't even ask. Didn't even question it. Just gladly spread his legs like a good little whore would. He looked up at his face and felt the bile rise in his throat. He was disgusting.  
  
    He turned away almost violently and walked to the shower. He turned the water on, and without waiting for it to warm up, he stepped in. It took a few minutes for the water to soak his hair, but he didn't lift his hands to wash it. He just stood there. The water was cold, and took almost ten minutes to warm up. By then, the water was running on nothing, Duo curled in a corner of the shower. Finally asleep.  
  


* * *

_[Oh and every time I'm close to you,  
there's too much I can't say...]_     Duo flexed his fingers slightly before entering the class room. He felt so...defeated. But he did need to find Heero again.  
  
    Still...wandering around trying to find the Wing pilot just felt so...pathetic. He sighed. He was just making himself more excuses, and then undoing them again. He closed his fingers over the handle of the door, opening it slowly, then stepping in, his bright grin trained on his face. The class turned to look at him, so did the teacher, but specifically, Heero turned to look at him. He couldn't help it, he looked back. Then the broke gaze, looking away. Duo gazed at the chalk board at the front of the room, and Heero stared at the back wall.  
  
    The teacher introduced him briefly and asked him to take a seat. As he did so, he glanced back at Heero again, and winced slightly when he saw the prussian blue eyes had taken on their usual glare. The rest of class, he just sat there and stared at the board, yet taking in nothing the teacher was saying. He didn't look back at Heero, three rows away to the back and to the left, unable to and unwilling to. He was still playing their little game, and he couldn't afford to lose anymore. He had already lost far too much ground, and he planned to win every inch of it back. His pride wouldn't allow him to give in. Not to such a blank and immature boy. Duo snorted slightly, and rested his head on his hand. He was one to speak. After class, he didn't have much trouble finding Heero, considering it was Heero that found him. The Wing pilot sent him another glare, which Duo pointedly ignored. They walked down the hall together in silence. Heero invited him to speak in his dorm, and Duo nodded slightly. When they got there, the conversation was slow and meaningless. Heero demanded to know why he was here. Duo angrily told him that he didn't obey anyone's orders and that he could go where he wanted. They continued arguing.  
  
    But Duo knew that wasn't true. He had come here to say something very specific. But his pride wouldn't let him. His dignity wouldn't let him lose anymore, he couldn't. And because of it, he lost a little more of himself.  
  


* * *

_[...and you just walk away.]_     This time, it was Heero that sought him out. After their long and pointless argument in the dorm, they hadn't seen one another for over a month. Duo had the temptation, occasionally, to look up the sources through Deathscythe to try and discover where Heero was. His pride would twinged again, and he'd turn away. So when Heero appeared in the hanger one day, Duo was more than surprised.  
  
    He had been staying on the boat with Howard and the sweepers for the last couple weeks, and the last person he expected to show up was Heero. He had climbed down from where he was working on Shinigami, and slowly approached the stoic boy. When Duo was within a foot or so, one of Heero's hands suddenly reached out to snag his arm, pulling him into a harsh kiss. It was clumsy and inexperienced, but it was raw and demanding. He let out a slight cry of surprise and pain, trying to shove against Heero, to pull away, but the other boy didn't let him go. And after awhile, Duo stopped struggling. When Heero finally did pull back, Duo absently tried to lick the blood from his bruised lips as he looked at Heero. He didn't look away.  
  
    "Why did you come looking for me?" Heero demanded, his voice as harsh and cold as it had been in the dorm.  
  
    "Because I wanted to speak with you." The words came to Duo unbidden, but he struggled with them, his lips too sore and swollen to bring them together properly.  
  
    "Why? You said you don't get orders, what concern are you to me?" Heero glared at him. And was shocked when Duo suddenly tore away. Heero's grip had slacked a bit since the kiss, but not so much that he expected Duo to be able to wrench his wrist free. Duo glared at him with equal, if not more, intensity.  
  
    "Answer that yourself." With that, Duo spun on his heel and left. Heero stared blankly after the black clad boy, not noticing the broken wrist hanging limply at Duo's side.  
  
  
_[And I forgot to tell you, I love you.]_  
  
    Duo held his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh. He berated himself over and over again in his head, but it didn't do any good. He still felt the same way. A way he neither wanted to feel, nor needed to.  
  
    _'Anyone stupid enough to get close to me dies!'_  
  
    He shuddered.  
  
    _'War takes away many lives. People never forget the grief, but they never stop the fighting. Streams of blood and tears are only an ornament for their destructive ritual.'  
  
    '...they never stop the fighting...'
_  
  
    He lowered his hands from his face to wrap around his shoulders, loosely holding himself. Beneath him, the boat swayed with the ocean.  
  
    _'War takes away many lives. Many lives. Anyone close to me dies...they die...'_  
  
    His long, thin legs hung off the end of the bed, crossed at the ankle. He took a deep breath, the waves breaking harshly against the side of the boat. Above him, he could hear the crew yelling warnings of the approaching storm.  
  
    _'If Solo's with me, we'll be Duo.'_  
  
    He was alone again. There was a scream from above.  
  
    _'I'm alone...?'_  
  
    He let out a harsh cry, drowned out by the lightening.  
  
    _'...I am destined to be killed by you.'_  
  
    Outside, the storm broke upon them.  
  
  
_[And the night's too long and cold here without you.]_  
  
    Deathscythe Hell moved swiftly through the night sky. Silent as Death. Below, a fierce storm was moving across the ocean.  
  
_'"Duo!! Duo!"  
  
    Duo looked up slowly at the door to his small cabin in the boat. Howard didn't pause to knock, he just burst through. It was policy that doors were never locked, it was dangerous on a boat that carried such precious cargo as a Gundam.  
  
    "What...?" Duo stared listlessly at him. For a moment, Howard just gawked.  
  
    " 'What' ? You haven't noticed this storm?!"  
  
    "...aa...it's a storm." Duo shrugged.  
  
    "...Duo..." Howard's eyes widened at the stranger before him. Duo's happy go lucky grin had faded away like mist, and the drollness in his eyes showed even more. Howard had always known there was something wrong with the young pilot, but he had never seen him so...dead.  
  
    "I'm fine." Duo nodded slightly and smiled, standing up and meeting Howard's eyes. It was such a drastic change that for a moment Howard was shocked. Then relieved. He once believed that if someone could show their true face, you could help them. But sometimes, it was just easier to pretend you never saw it.  
  
    "Good. The storm is too bad. I'm not sure how much of it we can stand up to. Take the Gundam and get going. We'll probably be fine, but I don't want to take any chances with you or the Gundam." Duo paused, staring at Howard. He nodded.'
_  
  
    Thin, pale hands gripped the console controls tightly.  
  
    _'He runs, he hides, he does everything, but he never lies.'_  
  
    Yeah, just like Death. The ultimate truth. And he was running away again. Below him, below the cloud's of the storm, the boat sailed on. Duo moaned and leaned over a bit more. He wondered if Heero had gotten out before the storm hit...  
  
    He looked up when a message appeared on his right hand view screen. He blinked - it was Howard's face.  
  
    "Yo!...Duo!...sorry. You just may have to take care of your own Gundam next time, eh? That's what you get for putting all this work on an old man."  
  
    Duo eyes widened.  
  
    "Don't worry though, we're all here to see the colonies free."  
  
    _'People never forget the grief. But they never stop the fighting.'_  
  
    "S...stop..." Duo tried to say it louder, but it didn't work, and his voice was lost before the word was formed.  
  
    "So, we did what we wanted to." There was a scream coming from behind Howard. "I think the war'll be over one day, won't it?"  
  
    _'They never stop the fighting...ever...they never stop.'_  
  
    "Howard!"  
  
    The screen blanked out in static.  
  
    _'Anyone stupid enough to get close to me DIES.'_  
  
    Duo slumped in the harness.  
  
  
_[I grieve in my condition,  
for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so.]_     Over the sky, Deathscythe Hell flew. Silent as Death. Dark as the night's sky. Duo opened his eyes slowly. Someone else had died because of him. He looked up, out of the view screens. He knew Heero had gotten away though - a storm couldn't kill him. He killed everyone close to him, and he had allowed Heero close. But this time, maybe he'd die too. After all, Heero had said that he would kill him. And he was destined to be killed by him.  
  
    _'...aren't you going to do it...naa...Heero?'_  
  


* * *

End of Part One.  
  



	2. Ice Cream

**Fumbling Towards Ecstasy**  
by Ashura no Miko  
  
**Part Two: Ice Cream** _[Your love is better than ice cream]_     It was snowing. The ground in front of the safe-house was covered by a white blanket of ice, the distant sky hazed with grey clouds, heavy with moisture. Rolling into those clouds was a thick plume of smoke, rising from the recently scorched earth, where a few moments ago, a bomb shuddered the ground and the city near by. The silent screams of the dead OZ soldier hung limply in the air, unheard by the voiced screams of the living.  
  
    The small safe-house was hidden within the trees, looking down upon the small town, nestled in a valley of the Netherlands. Inside the shack, it was slightly warmer, but not by much. The house was old and rickety, and the precious heat seeped out through the old, cracked walls. The occupant's breath moved hot from his lips, only to freeze in the air, becoming large plumes of white mist coming from his lax mouth, waiting by the window, watching. He didn't notice the cold. He was waiting for something even better than warmth.  
  
  
_[Better than anything else that I've tried]_     Heero's loose tank top clung to his skin, warm at first, then chilling as the wind blew against the blood slicked side. He glanced up at the house in front of him, only a few more yards away. The snow bit his skin, the wind driving it on. Even for the perfect soldier, walking back from the blown OZ base had been difficult in this weather. He pressed his hand to his side again in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but again it did nothing. He didn't mind though. He didn't mind the cold, or the blood, or his weariness. There was a promise waiting for him. His face never changed expressions.  
  
    He saw the light of the house behind closed eyelids, standing in front of the door. In the door way was the house's inhabitant. Heero waited in the wane light, his ankles deep in the snow, waiting to be let in. Had they been anyone else, his lover would have worried over him, frantically trying to stop the bleeding, fearing for him. But they were just Duo and Heero, Duo and Heero; so Duo just moved out of the way and let him in. Heero walked inside silently. Others would have called it cold, would have questioned their relationship. But anyone who knew them would know differently. Heero would never enter his house without invitation. He did that for no other. And Duo let him in with a gentle smile, saved only for him. And perhaps that silent understanding was better than anything else.  
  
_[Your love is better than ice cream]_  
  
    Duo's gentle fingers cleaned and bandaged the wounds, the braided pilot silent for once. His cobalt eyes were patient, not angry at his partner for letting himself get hurt. Duo was used to it. Duo understood the war more than any other Heero had tried to associate with. To the Japanese boy, Duo was both pleasurable and convenient as a lover. He knew what the girl, Relena, felt for him, and she did stir feelings inside of him, but he knew that she would never be able to understand him. She would always try to stop him from fighting, tell him to be careful, tell him it was too dangerous. He hadn't expected to become this close to the strange American, after all, they had only met a little while ago. A matter of months really. A few months that turned those half-hearted attempts at killing him into a diminishing number, and evenings spent cleaning wounds into evenings spent in a tangle of long limbs and braid. Maybe extracting comfort, maybe extracting an unspoken promise.  
  
    Heero pulled Duo into the bed with him, and American followed without resistance. Heero's side hurt too much to do anything, so he just spent the night with Duo's warmth against him. When the sun finally rounded on the horizon, Heero slipped silently from Duo's arms. He felt an odd pull, and turned to glance at the sleeping American. Duo was blissfully unaware, and Heero glared at him, as though this strange feeling were his fault. Heero shook his head and gathered his supplies together. He needed to stop these meetings. He left the house silently, leaving no note.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_[Everyone knows how to fight]_  
  
    Heero waited patiently for the signal from Quatre. The blonde crouched on the other side of the arena peered over the railing, his blue eyes searching for the target. He finally located the general, sitting in the third row, watching the speaker on stage. Quatre sighed silently and pulled out a small light, flashing it a few times. On the other side of the auditorium, Heero's blue eyes reflected the light. He had also located the target. Quatre flashed the tiny light three times. Heero flashed his in response one long time. A positive response. Quatre had located their target. Heero slipped away again as the guards found him once again. He had been leading them on a merry chase to make sure they didn't find Quatre while he completed their mission. Quatre aimed carefully and made a single shot. There was no sounds, as the silencer quieted the gun's retort, but the general's wife let out a sharp scream as her husband slumped over, a bullet hole in the back of his head.  
  
    Heero heard the guards behind him stop at the scream, but Heero kept moving away, managing to blend into the crown of running, panicking officers and their wives, dressed up to come see the famous speaker here tonight. In the third row, a man was slumped over, his wife shaking him desperately, blood staining her clothing. Over a hundred yards away, high in the ceiling of the huge auditorium, a young Arabian boy disassembled his gun and climbed down to rejoin his fellow pilot. The blonde boy smiled, then sadly whispered an apology to the man he'd killed. Despite his innocent and polite demeanor, he was a Gundam pilot. Despite the genuine sadness in his eyes, there was no regret. Heero waited for the other pilot to say his apologies, then the two of them left the building. The guards never found them. In the end the reports announced that it had been a major terrorist attack, planned and plotted out months before hand. No one guessed it had been two fifteen year old boys, alone, who had only received the mission plans the night before.  
  


* * *

  
  
    Blood splattered against white skin as a pale shadow lowered his gun. Duo lifted his bony hand to wipe the blood on his face away, instead smearing it across his cheek. Bright violet eyes gazed wearily at the limp body before him. He watched detachedly as the blood slowly drifted from fiber to fiber, each droplet sinking into the cheap cotton the of OZ uniform of the man he had just killed.  
  
    A slim Chinese man dropped down onto the level, checking for guards, then nodding towards Duo. Duo returned Wufei's nod, confirming that he had disposed of the guards. The American knelt with uncharacteristic grace, his long fingers pulling the stiff eyelids down over the still stunned dark brown eyes. The boy was almost as young as he. An untrained Earth boy, who had never experienced the war first hand before. Duo's cold hand brushed over the boy's cheek softly. Wufei watched silently. The braided pilot looked up at the Chinese boy standing over him. Despite Duo's tender ministrations a moment ago, there was no regret or remorse in his eyes. He punched a fresh clip into his gun and grinned his usual grin at the Chinese pilot. Wufei snorted and rolled his eyes at the American.  
  
  
_[And it's a long way down]_

* * *

  
  
    Heero watched the silent beauty of the Earth, but it was lost on his cold eyes.With the coming of the Gundam's, the war had raged it's way to Earth, and there was no stopping it now. New groups of revolutionaries were appearing everywhere, each one screaming for their own justice, their own solution. People died through the night, the echo of bombs split the once peaceful air of the Earth. Only a month of two ago, in a ratty old hotel, a hide away after a mission, Heero breathed in the warm scent of his partner, curled into a fetal position on the bed. Duo held the other boy close, cradling him. Duo's too thin fingers sweeped through the dark tousled hair, tracing the line of his jaw. Curled safely in Duo's arms, Heero's body trembled slightly at the blast of each bomb. Duo took him away for the first time, forcing him to forget the bombs as their lips press together. Heero's love making was violent in its tension. Or perhaps it was just sex.  
  
  
_[It's a long way down]_  
  


* * *

  
  
    Missions flew by with the days, and ever since that night, Duo allowed Heero to his bed. One night, Duo lay on his side, cold in the darkness. The sheets were draped over his hips, blood drying on his thighs. He didn't seem to notice the cold air. The room was shrouded in silence. Behind him, Heero stared blankly at his partner's back. The perfect soldier's cold blue eyes were confused, like splintered glass melting into pools of tears. But the tears never reached his eyes. Instead he traced his fingers down Duo's back. But Duo didn't move.  
  
    Heero waited through the night and the dawn. He watched his partner raise from the bed, dressing for the next day, the next mission. Heero watched the normally smiling boy stoically clean himself of the blood, of the violence done to him. Heero's glassy eyes rested on the bruises on his lover's body. Bruises left by him, left by his desperate fingers. Instead of angry words, or silent sad eyes, Duo turned to smile at him. It wasn't fake, nor was it disguised anger. The small boy offered Heero a pale hand. Heero took it slowly, feeling Duo's constantly cold fingers wrap into his warm palm.  
  
  
_[It's a long way down to the place where we started from]_   
  


* * *

  
  
    Another night, another mission. This time Heero told himself it was love making. This time something was different. This time Duo clung to him, as though letting out his own distress. Heero found that he was never in control, that Duo was always controlling him before; guiding him through the release of his tension. Duo made him become like this. Duo controlled him, but Heero couldn't control his own emotions - his need to find the American again and again. But every time he did, he did nothing but abuse the American, leaving him with welts and scars on his body. Yet every time he came, Duo opened the door to him and let him in. And when ever Heero tried to control Duo, the American would become angry at him. He couldn't comprehend how Duo thought. The perfect soldier could not think of individuals, he could only think of people, of a cause. Duo had forced him to see him as an individual, as a person. That's why he hated him. That's why he loved him. That's why... _[Your love is better than chocolate]_

Duo brushed the backs of his frozen fingers over Heero's warm cheek. The Japanese pilot looked at his lover, caught in the twist of the rumpled sheets. No matter how far he reached, he was always pulling up short. Always so distant. He wondered how Duo closed that distance, how Duo accepted hit after hit and kept smiling. How his lover allowed him to his bed, despite the pain he knew he'd receive, and smile gently at him afterwards.

He reached out, trying again, and Duo happily obliged, scooting into his arms in silence. Heero held tightly to him, waiting for the cold morning to come, his chest warm against Duo's.

_[Better than everything else that I've tried]_

* * *

Fires glow, and from them new fighters rise. Like a phoenix from the ashes, soldiers regroup and find new leaders, each more ignorant than the last. Men who's ideal peace is absolute and total control. From between their tightly fisted fingers, young boys with invincible Mobile Suits emerge, growing like weeds. Each sees the war with more clarity than men twice their age. They are devoted to the war, to nothing else. But time passes and humans return to their emotions. Those who can't fear death hate life. If they couldn't see their true enemy, how could they fight? It was so easy to fight a black and white war before. But when moral decisions are called in, how can a corpse decide it's course of action? Confusion and tension builds, and human's must be humans. We reach for one another. Dark nights find corpses curled together. Days find them awakening to real light, and the light that humans must be with one another. Can a human who has never been human before love another human?

Heero searched for Duo between every mission, finding his need for the other boy growing. He couldn't bring it down to just sex anymore. Cornering his emotions was difficult, holding them down was even more difficult. But he had always believed that there was nothing wrong for a human to follow his emotions, but the following was the easy part, understanding was more of a challenge. And maybe it was that comprehension that brought him to a firmer understanding of himself and his lover. His Duo.

_[Your love is better than chocolate]_

* * *

Heero's glassy eyes were calm and focused. He had found Duo again, this time in a colony in the L-4 sector. No mission yet, no mission save the dozing boy in his arms. The day had confused him at first, but in the end it had brought him more understanding of the situation. He could still see the hesitant boy in his mind...

"Heero?" 

He turned around in his seat, and his eyes widened. He wasn't used to being surprised, and wasn't ready for the queasy feeling in his stomach. But that feeling wasn't surprise, he knew. It was the pain that Duo always caused him when he did things like this. The pain of seeing someone trust him.

Before him, Duo stood in his normal priest-like attire, but the only difference was that his customary braid was down, his hair flowing loosely around his shoulders. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, but Heero knew better. Nothing was more prized...more private to Duo than his hair. Despite their relationship, Heero had never touched that braid, nor seen it undone. Duo made it quite clear he didn't want it touched. And now, again, Duo was opening to him. Confusing him even more.

"Braid it for me?" Duo's brash attitude was gone, as it always was when they were alone, and Heero again found that the more ground Duo gave, the more control he had over the perfect soldier. Again Duo was able to jerk his fragile emotions around with a few words. Trust and fear emanated from Heero's hands, and Duo's stiff shoulders, memories blending with pain in a sharp feeling that stabbed at Heero's chest. It was the pain. The pain that brought the realization.

Nothing hurt any more. No physical wounds pained him, nor the actions of others. His emotions were blocked away, tucked away, or crushed. He was the perfect soldier, and nothing hurt him anymore. Except Duo. Duo could make him hurt. Could make him human.

He cradled the boy closer, and Duo willingly curled in his arms, smiling slightly in his sleep. Duo understood him. Duo accepted it when he had hurt him, despite the horrid nature of Heero's actions. Duo didn't say they were right, but he simply understood that Heero could no longer control his own emotions, his own actions. And Heero realized that neither could Duo. Duo searched for the pain that could tell him he was still alive. At first their coupling had been no more than searching for pain, searching for the hurt that could make corpses live again. And now that they were alive...? Now what...?

* * *

_[Everyone here knows how to cry]_

It was nice to know that someone would mourn when he died. He knew Duo wouldn't make him give up the war. Any other lover would demand attention, demand he give up his fight, so that he wouldn't die. But Duo just smiled and nodded. Duo felt the same way. They would die, one or the other or both. But Duo didn't hold him down with strings. Duo didn't make him feel guilty about fighting, about the possibility he might die.

He'd never betray his lover. He had committed himself to him. But before that he was committed to his war. To the fight that someone else had given to him. A committed noncommitment. He wanted his violence to Duo to die out, to be able to reach out to the other boy without injuring him. The tangled emotions in his bones had begun to unknot themselves with the help of Duo's skilled hands. But even now he found he couldn't stay with him too long. He couldn't help it. He was afraid. He glanced against at the dozing boy, settled comfortably in his arms. He owed him. And Heero Yuy paid back every obligation. He roused Duo quietly.

Their war raged on, outside the small colony they were staying at, but no missions came that morning, or that afternoon. And two young boys with the eyes of corpses made love in the true sense of the words. And behind glassy eyes they were breaking with pain, maybe alive for a moment.

_[Your love is better than ice cream]_

Inside the colony, artificial lighting hung over their heads, two seemingly normal boys walking the streets. The braided boy swayed down the street, and the dead pan boy next to him walked with patience. So much patience that it would surprise those who knew him. Duo smiled at him. But Duo knew him more.

The American twirled through the fake grass of the small park, glancing at Heero every now and again. The Japanese pilot flexed his fingers silently. No mission, no bombs. The war continued around them, but all his cold blue eyes could see was a dancing boy with an unhealthily thin figure and a long braid, standing before him as an artificial wind blew by. Relaxing had never been part of his training, but Duo had changed so much already, why not change more? Heero didn't mind. This was better than anything else he could think of.

_[Better than anything else that I've tried]_

Heero's arm was firmly settled around Duo's waist as the braided boy ate his ice cream cone, but Duo didn't seem to mind the possessive gesture. Heero didn't know why he did that now. All he knew was that having his lover held stiffly close made him feel more at ease. He closed his eyes and sighed.

For a moment the peace of the regulated day sank into him. The air was slightly stale, despite the motors moving it around. Now that Heero had lived on Earth, the fake wind, light, and stars of the colonies seemed strange to him. But it didn't matter. Soon a new mission would come in. The thought made him clutch Duo even tighter. Duo's response was not what he expected.

"D-Duo?!" Heero clapped a hand to his nose, and faintly registered the other boy's laughter. Duo had shoved an ice cream in his face, literally. The soft, cold ice slid its way down Heero's cheek, and some dripped off the end of his nose. The soldier glared at the laughing boy. Duo, as always, ignored him. After a few seconds, his laughter stopped. Heero glared coldly at him, and thought most would cower under such a stare, Duo just smiled back. Then, suddenly, Duo's face shifted out of focus as it came too close to see properly. Heero automatically closed his eyes as he felt warm lips kiss away the half melted chocolate ice cream, and clean the sticky spots from his skin. Even when he was done, he didn't remove his lips from his face. Heero didn't make a sound. The minutes bled away, Heero's reality focused on the warm breath moving from Duo's mouth over his cheek and neck. The breath puffed out more as Duo chuckled quietly.

"...you taste better." The brash boy kissed him.

_[Your love is better than ice cream]_

* * *

Heero blinked slowly, waking up hours later. He hadn't been conscious that he'd dozed off. He wasn't used to that. When he slept, he decided how long and when, and yet...he sighed and relaxed, registering his partners presence. Duo made him do things like that, things without thinking. His vision cleared more and he realized it was 'night'. Over head, the colony had turned on the fake stars on the ceiling. Unfortunately though, the light only made the ceiling more obvious. The main lights were out, making the circular city dark. Heero's head was nestled on Duo's shoulder, and the usually loud American was silent and still. Heero lifted his head, and Duo shifted slightly. Heero then noticed the arm wrapped around him loosely. He looked up at Duo.

"Why are we still here? New mission orders could be coming in. We need to return to the apartment. Duo...?" Why wasn't the pilot responding. Heero blinked, a slight morsel of worry wedging itself in his ribs. Then Duo looked at him and smiled slightly.

"I know Heero...sorry...but...would it be okay if we just stayed here for awhile?" Heero watched his partner. He knew they had new orders, they were going to be coming in soon. And yet...And yet Duo always made him do these things. The regulated temperature never changed, even at night, and yet that dead warmth made him curl into the figure of his lover more. Duo always made him do these things. Not forcefully, maybe not even purposely, but he did them anyway. The perfect soldier folded in, resting his head back against Duo's bony shoulder.

"Aa, we can."

So they sat there, blind to the world, deaf to the screams, and mute to each other, staring up at the artificial night.

* * *

Fin Part 2

Okay, revised kinda. I just wanted to make it flow a bit better, because I wrote this part before I wrote part one, and I noticed they didn't flow together quite right. Yes, there are still some differences, but they were put there purposely, because Heero sees things very differently than how Duo sees them, and each part is written from one of their POV's (i.e. Part One is from Duo's POV, but Part Two is from Heero's POV). That's why things may seem a little different. Generally, Heero sees things more optimistically than Duo.


	3. Full of Grace

  
Full of Grace  
By Ashura no Miko  
Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan  
___________________________  
  
[_The winter here's cold, and bitter.  
It's chilled us to the bone._]  
  
    The child's breathing was quiet and soft, wafting out of his mouth in to the cool air of the cargo hold he was tucked away in. Around his chin curled unwashed locks of chestnut hair, and long, uncut bangs shadowed his eyes. The shadows that stretched across the darkened hold covered his body like a cold blanket, and the deep vibrations of the nearby engines became a constant thrum, like a mechanical lullaby. Outside, the huge space ship prepared to dock with the small, distant colony, known only as "Colony V08744", on the outer edge of the L - 2 cluster.  
  
    Eight years later, the same child, now grown, sat within the cockpit of a metal giant. Just as before, it's engines hummed to him, only now he was safely seated within a harness, rather than stowing away in the cargo hold. But this ship had no hold. It was a weapon of war. The hair had grown, down to his thighs now, clean and brushed. His breath was quiet in the cockpit, as Deathscythe Hell was outside, not a sound was heard in the vast universe surrounding them, closing in on them from all side. Silent and alone, Death continued to drift.  
  
[_We haven't seen the sun for weeks;  
too long too far from home._]  
  
    The boy remembered the sun. He had seen it once, a long time ago. He remembered just how warm the light looked. Through the thick panes of glass that protected the observatory from the cold vacuum of space feeling the sun's rays was impossible, but he could see it's warmth. The bright yellow circle, rimmed with spots of orange, it glowed with warm colors. Yes, he had seen the sun before. But as the colony dimmed it's lights for night, he doubted he'd ever see it again.   
  
    Colony V08744 was tiny in comparison to even the small colonies. Yet, despite this, it held almost 3 million residents, including the Federation soldiers and workers that were stationed there. Almost all the houses were given out to those who worked for the Federation, and the other's were owned by the 6% of the population that were rich enough to afford the housing. The shacks built by the residents themselves lined the streets. Rickety fiberglass structures, built from the garbage heaps. Most of them were stores of some kind, and a few held families. The streets around them were littered with people. The alley ways were filled with bodies clothed in rags, some spilling out onto the sidewalk. Almost living one on top of the other, the streets smelled of stale colony air, thick with the stench of urine and defecation, and the sickness of the dead and dying. For fear of disease, circles of about 5 feet were left around the dead bodies before they were taken away, sometimes taking days, or even weeks before the body was picked up and disposed of. By then, any disease they might have had was past on to the next person.  
    In the back of the smaller sets of alleys, within the heart of Federation territory, a small body leaned up against a grime smeared wall. He was still, gazing out at the street. He quirked his head slightly, the image of the naked woman was reflected in his amaryllis eyes, her cries for help, for death, almost quiet now. The men raping her hadn't listened for almost an hour now. The boy doubted they would at all. Her blood ran down her legs, her voice raw and weak from screaming, she barely had the strength to stand at all. The boy stood unmoving in his spot, blinking a few times; no one had noticed him yet.  
    Perhaps he felt bad for the woman, but it was doubtful. He had certainly never met her before, as his gaze reflected no recognition. He was silent, though he wasn't mute. Having grown up amongst many different peoples, he knew bits and pieces of many languages, but none in entirety. Still, if he had truly wanted to, he could have called out in wordless defiance, trying to save the woman from the hideous violation he was witnessing. But he didn't care. His eyes were flat and dispassionate, as though he were staring at something inane and meaningless, rather than the bloody display of power and sex. He took no notice of her screams, not the powerful, shrieking one's an hour ago, nor the weak whimpers of calls that she released now. The laughter of her violators meant nothing but the truth to him. That was power. He knew even if he called out it would do nothing to help her, only harm him. He saw no reason to sacrifice himself for some faceless whore. He smiled a little as he watched, knowing that perhaps one day he'd be in her position, and thus, he never blinked or looked away from the violence.  
    He only turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Solo's eyes. The older boy shook his head, and said something to the child, but the child couldn't understand the language. He turned and followed Solo away, the taller boy carefully herding the proverbial lost sheep back to the herd.  
    Almost two years later, plague hit the colony, claiming thousands of lives. Even the street kids couldn't escape it.  


* * *

[_I feel just like I'm sinking,  
and I claw for solid ground._]  
  
    The boy had stolen a scented candle from the store where the old wise woman lived. It was long and thin, and badly made, merely wax mixed with lavender oil, but the crone probably couldn't afford any better. He gripped it tightly in both hands, having to remove each palm occasionally as the cheap wax was beginning to soften from his sweaty fingers. He wiped his hands on his thighs to rid them of the nasty feel of the wax, and held the candle close to his nose, breathing in its simple scent, blocking out the smell of rotting pus from the burst boils on the skin of the diseased. The normally pleasant fragrance became sickening, as it didn't get rid of the horrid smell, but merely covered it up, blending in with it slowly in the thick air.  
    The boy curled up against the alley wall, his head bowed against his propped up knees. He sighed softly, listening to the passage of people outside the alley, along the sidewalks and streets. Beyond that came the raucous cries of the soldiers on their night off, the bars crowded to their limits. And none of them knew. For all their noise, and passing, not one of them knew that Solo was dead.  
    The boy felt a flare of anger. He pushed down the urge to run out of the alley and scream at them all. Tell them that someone had died that night, and none of them knew. And none of them would care. If it weren't for the damp feeling in the center of his chest, the boy wouldn't care either. The numbness of shock and bodily deprivation had set in, and even though he knew he should be upset, he wasn't. He crinkled up his face and tried stifled a fake sob, hoping the sensation would shake loose the tears the rational part of his brain told him he should be crying, but his eyes remained dry. So he just sat there and did nothing at all.  
    He had given the extra vaccine he had stolen to the other children, so they would be fine, they'd survive, just like Solo had wanted. Had. The boy shook his head vehemently, hating to use the past tense with Solo's name. And after all that, it didn't bother him that there hadn't been enough of the vaccine left for him. That was what he wanted though. He'd just sit here, and wait for the disease to take him. The other children kept bringing him food everyday, and he'd eat it for their sake. He didn't know why they thought of him as the new leader. He couldn't lead them. He couldn't do anything for them now. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't save Solo, and now no one could save him. He wouldn't let them.  
    In the streets, the plague rolled like a wave. People moaned and lived without moving, too tired and sick to make the effort. One by one they dropped away, adding to the piles mounting in the streets and alleys. One day, the boy finally woke up. When he did, he found the plague had passed him over, that it had finally left. He found his gang small and depleted, their food supplies almost none existent, and for the first time in weeks, something other than numbness stirred in his gut.  
    _'It must have been Solo's soul watching over me.'_  
    A few days later, the gang showed up on the doorstep of the Maxwell Church Orphanage.  


* * *

[_I'm pulled down by the undertow.  
I never thought I could feel so low._]  
  
    The last few flames of the dying fire were reflected in the boy's eyes as he watched the remains of the small church burn. He stood there, rooted to the spot, unable, or maybe unwilling to tear his eyes away from the almost hypnotic sight. He slowly abandoned the Mobile Suit he had stolen, and began to wander among the ruins. He glanced absently at the bodies. The Federation had had gotten the rebels they had been searching for, and had killed 245 innocents in the process. The ground was littered with the bodies of children. It was over.  
    The boy hung his head. His life here was over. He had known it couldn't last forever. The bloody, burned ground passed under his feet, scarred with the deep scrapes from where shrapnel and large rocks had hit it. He remembered how polished they had looked, barely an hour ago. It hadn't taken them long to decimate the area, but then again, it had been a church - it wasn't as if there had been anyone to fight back. He chuckled. Only cowards struck out at those who couldn't fight back. Still, in war, it was the cowards who survived. They were the smart ones. Not stupid like Father Maxwell. Not stupid and noble. Noble and loving.  
    He found the Father in a heap of bodies. He had been trying to protect them to the very last, probably. He had been dead for over an hour when the boy found him.  
    The tiny Angel of Death passed by him, his muscles tense, leaving the heap of bodies behind him. There was nothing to be done there. A dead body, no matter who it was or what it was when it was living, was no more than dead meat, and the boy knew seeking warmth from it was a hopeless endeavour. Despite the silence, he wondered if there were any living bodies. If nothing else, he knew the Father would rather he look for them than concern himself over the priest's lifeless corpse. The Father would want him to find Sister Helen. He had to find the Sister, just to be sure. Just to be sure. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling welling in his throat.  
    He found her with the other nuns, and even some of the female children. Their bodies lay naked on the ground. The boy felt his stomach turn over, a burning sensation starting in his chest as the acidic bile rose up in sickness, remembering the woman he had never helped. Sister Helen had pulled the burnt and torn remains of her habit over her bare body. He approached her slowly, his foot hitting a rock and sending it skidding across the ground. Her eyes opened slowly at the sound, clutching the now black rag to her chest. He flinched at the wounded look in her eyes. She had always been a bold and stern woman, never showing any weakness to anyone; it was how strong her faith was. The thought that some young, fool soldier had dared to do something like this to her...the boy's hand clenched into a tight fist as he knelt by her.  
    She watched him with fondly familiar eyes. Even through her abuse, the same fire burned in her eyes. The boy knew she had fought until the end. Somewhere in her, she found the strength to place a hand on the boy's shoulder. He didn't move, he didn't say a word. He had seen too many dead bodies to try and beg her to stay, or tell her that she was going to be okay and try to rush her to the Federation hospital. She was going to die, he knew that, and say no point in denying it.  
    She smiled bleakly, blood leaking from her lips as she spoke her last words.  
    "...may God bless you...and keep you..."  
    The boy screamed.  
  
    When man left the Garden of Eden, he was given a name, and was named Adam. He who had disobeyed God. Before his loss of innocence, he had simply been known as man. Man, who had no knowledge of good or evil. And as the boy left the Garden, he realized he was no longer the boy. He knew his name now. Duo Maxwell didn't look back at the rubble of the church as he left, his cobalt eyes cold with hatred.   


* * *

[_Oh darkness I feel like letting go._]  
  
    He had let go of himself. He would be ashamed if Sister Helen saw him now. He clutched at the crucifix that he had stolen from her dead body. If Father Maxwell saw him now...Duo clutched even tighter at the cross, until the edges dug into his skin. He could just see the horror in the kind man's eyes. Duo released the cross to tug self consciously at the short leather skirt. He hadn't been conscious of himself all evening, but somehow the thought of the people he had known made him squirm. He had no choice though, he had been forced to let go of the morals they had taught him.  
    He could not allow the Federation officers who had ordered that attack on the church to live. He had easily killed off the soldiers, but the higher officers were harder to get to. So he just did a little homework. This particular commander had been charged with sexually molesting a young boy a few years ago. Duo was only twelve. And he was small and thin enough to pass for younger. And despite the skirt, his tight crop top clearly displayed that he was male. Duo watched as the officer's car rounded a corner, and began traveling down the street he was on. The high heels of his boots clicked on the pavement as he walked through the other prostitutes, all female, to where the car had stopped - in front of him.  
  
    The gun was fully equipped with a silencer, so no one in the ratty hotel heard the shot. The heavy, sweat covered body fell on top of Duo, and the small child pushed it away with a grunt. The blood slowly began to soak the sheets. It had been the perfect plan. The officer had never expected the boy he was fucking to suddenly draw a gun on him. Not only that, but he had been kind enough to pay Duo in advance. Duo grinned as he began to rebraid his hair. So he had even gotten away with some money then. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he walked out of the room, leaving the body there. He had let go.  


* * *

[_If all of the strength,  
and all of the courage,  
come and lift me from this place,_]  
  
    Duo didn't make a sound as his head was jerked back by his hair roughly. His hands were tied tightly behind his back and he had been forced to his knees, a man standing behind him forcing him to be still. In front of him, an old man with an odd scar on his cheek approached.   
    "You say he took down six of your men?" the old man asked.  
    "Aa!" The man behind Duo growled in reply, tightening his hold on Duo's hair. "He killed two and wounded four before we could subdue him."  
    "Mmm..." the old man nodded slowly, considering the boy in front of him. "Very interesting boy, how old are you?"  
    "...fourteen." Duo shrugged slightly. He didn't lie, but he could have just kept quiet. He liked to brag though, and he saw no point in keeping silent about his age.  
    "Well then..." the old man laughed. "A fourteen year old boy bested your men, eh, Nielson? Well..." He turned his gaze back to Duo as the man behind the boy fumed silently, his hands shaking with fury as them clamped down on Duo's head. The old man continued on, as though oblivious, or simply ignoring Nielson. "My name is Professor G."  
    "Aa, why should it make any difference to me?" Duo shrugged then gritted his teeth as Nielson pushed him down harder.   
    "It should make a lot of difference considering that you were stowed away in my ship. What is you name, boy?"  
    "...Duo. Duo Maxwell. He runs, and he hides...he'll do anything...but he never lies. Duo...Maxwell." He grinned brashly. Professor G laughed.  
    "Well then, Duo Maxwell, how would you like to become a pilot?" The Professor grinned darkly.  
    "Sir!" Nielson exclaimed. Professor G ignored him and continued speaking.  
    "I have a job open at the moment...I need a young and able body. Someone who's strong and quick enough to pilot the best Mobile Suit ever made."  
    "Hn...what do I get out of it?" Duo grinned, watching the Professor carefully.  
    "You can become what you want to be. I can see how much you hate this war - these people that grew up in peace then have the audacity to try and lead an army. You described yourself as someone who runs and hides but never lies. It reminds me of someone else...the Shinigami."  
    "Shinigami...?" Duo blinked.   
    "Aa, he who take the life from others. The ultimate truth, eh? But he can still run away."  
    "Hmm...it's an awfully melodramatic name. Don't you think I'd sound silly running around calling myself that?"Duo shut his eyes proudly, snorting audibly.  
    "...well, think about it. You have time. Plenty of time." Professor G stood, turning to walk back to the main control panel at his slow and meandering pace.   
    "Hey!" Duo tried to keep his eyes on the Professor's back, looking up suddenly to do so, only to have Nielson shove his head down. Duo growled softly, flicking his wrists to dislocate them, pulling them out of the shocked Nielson's grasp. The man barely had time to gasp as Duo twisted around and his foot went crashing into Nielson's face, the man's head being twisted violently to the side, making an audible snap. Duo snapped his wrist back into place as the body hit the ground, then turned to face the old man. Professor G stood there, having watched it all, then moved his eyes to look at Duo calmly. The anger in Duo's face melted into his normal, brash grin.  
    "Yo'! You know, I don't wanna be a hero - but I refuse to be a mass murderer either. So...I guess I'll be this Shinigami of yours. So that it can be enough that I fight. It has to be enough that I fight."  
    Professor G smirked slowly.  


* * *

[_I know I can love you much better than this._]  
  
    Duo lifted the glass of water to his lips, drinking it down in a few gulps. He sighed silently and lowered the glass to the counter top, looking out the window at the rows upon rows of identical colony work houses. He felt a brief pang. A pang for the Earth - the home that he hated. Earth symbolized all the control and hatred he had watched since childhood, yet it was the most beautiful place he had ever been. It was truly mankind's home, their origin. But it wasn't that that he missed. He had never really had a home to miss in the first place. But he did miss the sky. The sun shining brilliantly during the day and the moon a dim reminder of the sun at night. So real. He stared up at the metal ceiling over them all. It was no substitute for the sky.  
    Duo sighed and turned from the counter with a rueful smile, walking out of the darkened kitchen. It wasn't a long walk to the bedroom, seeing how small the house was, but it seemed longer when you were trying to be quiet. He entered the room silently, as to not wake the sleeping boy within, moving across the floor with all the soundless grace of a cat.  
    Duo sat down on the edge of their bed, lifting a hand to lightly ruffle the surprisingly soft brown hair. Heero stirred slightly at the touch, before opening bright, prussian blue eyes. Duo smiled softly and let himself sink down on to the bed, the still drowsy Japanese pilot loosely draping his arms around the braided boy's waist. He held Heero gently, watching as the Japanese boy drifted back to sleep.   
    Duo hadn't been sure what to do when Heero had showed up on his doorstep a few days ago. He did, however, have the sense to send Hilde away to stay with one of the girls she worked with. Despite what some of the people in their neighborhood thought, he felt much like a brother to Hilde, and if Heero was going to do what Duo thought Heero was going to do, he didn't want the girl he thought of as his sister to be around. Hilde wouldn't be able to understand something like this. She'd try to protect him.  
    Duo wrapped his arms and legs protectively around Heero, cocooning him in his embrace. He didn't understand why Heero followed him around like this...was it just for the sex? Couldn't get that from just any whore? Duo shook his head slightly.  
    _'If you wanted it Heero...'_He sighed. _'No...It doesn't matter. No matter how many times you come, I always allow you to come in. Have you noticed that? Haven't you ever wondered why, Heero? I have.'_  
  
[_Full of grace._]  
  
    The night passed over and Heero woke up. His mouth moved to cover Duo's as the dim light of the artificial dawn leaked through the window, illuminating Duo's silhouette as his body arched over Heero's. Duo's hand searched the sheet's next to their entwined bodies, searching for Heero's warm palm. Finally finding the other boy's hand, he laced their fingers together. The Japanese pilot broke the kiss to stare at Duo in curiously. Duo grinned and lifted his free hand to release his braid from it's tie, and Heero's calculating eyes softened slowly, staring confusedly up at his lover. He raised his head to seek Duo's lips again, the American leaning down to meet him half way.  
  
[_Full of grace._]  
  
    Duo pressed his forehead to Heero's lifting a hand to brush away the dark brown bangs from his lovers face, the palm of his hand coming to rest on Heero's cheek. The long haired boy offered him a small, hesitant smile. Heero didn't return it, but slowly pulled the pale boy to him, holding him tightly. For the first time, his touch was more than simply gentle, it was tender. This time, their love making was slow and silent, Heero's eyes never leaving Duo's.  
  
[_My love._]  
  
    Duo blinked slowly, revealing a slit of violet as he woke. He was greeted by the sight of the door to their room closing silently. The bed was empty save for one long haired American. Duo slowly shut his eyes again.  
  
[_'So it's better this way.' I said,  
having seen this place before._]  


* * *

    "Stop looking at me like that." Duo grumbled, opening his eyes. Hilde blinked slowly, watching him with concern and no little amount of disbelief. Duo frowned.  
    "...well..." Hilde spoke softly, turning back to the sink, picking up one of the dirty dishes. She picked up a soapy rag in her other hand and began to clean the dried food from the plate.  
    "Well?" Duo answered firmly, without hesitation, but his voice sounded a little too insistent. Hilde sighed and began to rise the suds off the plate. A silence stretched between them for a moment, before Duo spoke again, quietly this time.  
    "This is better for me...If he stuck around...You know he works for those scientists...soon he'd have me helping him with his missions, and before you know it, I'll have become his sidekick. And Shinigami is no one's sidekick." Duo ran a hand through his mussed, messily braided hair.   
    "Mm..." Hilde nodded slowly, starring at the dish in her hands. "But..."  
    "But?" Duo questioned sharply. Hilde winced slightly. Duo had never been so...harsh. Though he had always been quick to anger, he had allowed a field of patience for her, and had always treated her gently. Then that dark, sullen, cold son of a- Hilde took a deep breath and sighed. Duo had always told her that it was that way of thinking that started wars, but she couldn't help it. She didn't like that Heero Yuy at all. She couldn't understand why anyone would walk out on someone like Duo. And as Duo had become all the family she had in the world, she felt a need to protect him. Especially from someone who could play with Duo's usually steady emotions so easily. She scowled and set the plate down on the counter hard, hard enough to make a clatter, but it didn't break. She turned around and stared at Duo, he face angry.  
    "Still! It's not right of him and you know it! You didn't do anything wrong and now he's upset you! And you're letting him do it! You're letting him! You always stood up to people before so why...why are you letting him do this to you?!" Hilde stared at him with angry, sad eyes for a long moment, before realizing her mistake. Duo was not one to let anyone control him, or tell him what to do. No matter how much she thought of him as family, he wasn't. He was a killer. A terrorist who took orders from no organization. Her face changed dramatically, stepping back from where Duo sat. Duo was too kind...he wouldn't do that. But his angry eyes told her differently.  
    "Hilde..." He didn't move from where he sat, and the girl choked softly on her tears. "...please do not try to tell me what I should or should not do. I've been here before. I know what I should do. I'm sorry." The anger in his eyes never left, but neither did he move towards her. Hilde's young eyes quivered.  
    "You're....you're horrible!" She turned to run away, and Duo managed not to flinch as he watched the tears finally spill over. She was a gentle child. Duo laughed dryly. She wasn't even one year younger than him, and still he called her a child. He sighed and leaned against the table. And the worst part had been that she was right. He could still hear Heero's words...   
  
[_Where everything we say and do  
hurts us all the more._]  
  
    "What is this?"  
    "Eh...? Hey! Don't touch that!"  
    "...fine."  
    "...I...I'm sorry..."  
    "Hn."  
    "Heero?"  
    "What?"  
    "It's a crucifix. A cross."  
    "..."  
    "It's a symbol of faith."  
    "Faith? You have faith?"     "..."  
    "Why do you always wear it? Even when we do things like this, you take everything off but that. Doesn't your God condemn people like us?"  
    "I don't believe in God."  
    "...then you're a hypocrite. Wearing those clothes...that cross...but you don't have faith."  
    "I never said I don't have faith."  
    "..."  
    "I said I don't believe in God."  
    "Then what do you have faith in?"  
    "Death."  
    "You always sa-"  
    "You."  
    "......."  
    "Hey Heero...Heero...Stop ignoring me!"  
    "What?"  
    "Aren't you going to say anything...?"  
    "Hn."  
    "...nevermind."  


* * *

[_It's just that we stayed too long  
in the same old sickly skin._]  
  
    Duo placed his pale hand against the cool metal of Deathscythe's armor, his skin appearing to be sheet white against the jet black Gundam. He moved his thin fingers over the metal, feeling the thrum of the vibration as the engines turned. Duo sighed and moved forward to swing inside the great machine, moving along the small crawl vent that went into the engines.  
    "Saa...partner, sorry about neglecting you recently, I've been kinda busy..." He ran one finger over the coolant pump, then pulled it back to look at the black grime on the pad. "...still, I left you in pretty bad condition. Sorry...I'll make sure everything is running great today." He picked up a rag and began to clean off the metal, pulling in a bucket of water with him to wash out any clogged pipes. He left the engines running so that he could make sure everything was working correctly, though it created huge amounts of heat, and left the young pilot sweltering. He lifted a hand to wipe his brow and sighed, leaning back against he body of the engine itself, the strong vibrations massaging his back.  
    "Thanks, Shinigami."   
    Silence.  
    "Aa...I know."  
    Silence.  
    "Nothing really...just tired."  
    Silence. Duo laughed.  
    "Aa, I do say that, don't I? I'm sorry, partner...I should know better than to try deceive you, ne..."  
    Silence.  
    "Hey...no need to get mean...I'm just..."  
    Silence.  
    "...just a little out of sorts. I mean...am I just going insane or something? I thought things would all turn out okay, as long as I didn't let myself become jaded. I though...if I could just keep trusting people, even if I'm afraid to...I though everything would be alright..."  
    Silence.  
    "...but I'm not! I can't ever be pure again, I can't ever see the world as innocent! I'm ruined and lost and I couldn't even see him doing it to me! I thought I was safe! I though...I thought...I wanted to be safe...but I'm still trapped in a cage...and no matter where I turn, I'm always pulled back..."  
    Silence.  
    "Sh-Shinigami!!"  
    The engines pumped behind him, releasing hot stream from the coolants, the huge warm blast of air encircling the trembling figure.  
    "Shinigami...I believe in you... there is no other god..."  
  
_    "Why do you say that?" The woman had asked him.  
    "...because I've never seen a miracle, I've only seen dead bodies."
_  
  
    Alone in the empty crawl way within the black giant, Duo curled up against the engine, listening to the firing of the pistons.  
  


* * *

_[I'm pulled down by the undertow.  
I never thought I could feel so low.]_  
  
    _'We've made our choices... We can't let the colonies involve themselves in this war...'_     "Duo... you're too kind." Hilde stared out the window, watching as Deathscythe Hell opened it's huge wings. She loosely draped her arms around herself as she felt a chill pass through her, unable to pull her deep blue eyes away from the metal giant.  
    "And that's why I'm still alive." Duo looked up, pressing down the final thruster. He couldn't stay here. He'd die, or worse, he'd forget to fight. He didn't know why he fought, but to him, it was enough that he fought. Or, it had been enough. Now nothing was enough. Nothing was worth anything anymore. And even if he was no more than a nameless, faceless soldier, he couldn't let people like Hilde suffer. People who had finally found a way to truly live in peace, even if it wasn't a peace they believed in. At least they weren't fighting.  
    Deathscythe launched itself, moving up to the colony ceiling. Duo swiftly hacked into the airlock control computer, using the complex scrambling device within Deathscythe's control panel. The light flared and opened the first door for the airlock, closing again once Deathscythe had entered. The second door jolted and began to open, then froze halfway. Duo glanced at his right hand viewing screen, looking at his computer displays. The airlock control workers, obviously caught unawares, were trying to stop him. Duo smirked slightly and tapped a few knobs on the control panel.  
    The lights in the airlock flared up again and the second door slid open completely, revealing the darkness of space to the giant Mobile Suit. Duo grinned and fired the engines, propelling his partner forward. Blue flame burst out of the thrusters as the Grim Reaper left the colony, moving away from the civilian home and out into space. Within that great structure, a young girl softly cried herself to sleep, her home small and empty. Yet the tears she shed were not for herself. They were the tears of a boy who had forgotten how to cry - or never learned at all.  
  
[_Oh darkness I feel like letting go._]  
  
    The same boy sat within the cockpit of a metal giant. Just as before, it's engines hummed to him, only now he was safely seated within a harness, rather than within the crawl way, or stowed away in the cargo hold. But this ship had no hold. It was a weapon of war. The hair had grown, down to his thighs now, clean and brushed. His breath was quiet in the cockpit, as Deathscythe Hell was outside, not a sound was heard in the tight vacuum of space. Silent and alone, Death continued to drift. And within Death, Shinigami slept.  
  


* * *

[_If all of the strength,  
and all of the courage,  
come and lift me from this place_]  
  
    Duo shifted in Deathscythe's cockpit, his small frame fitting comfortably into the seat. His long braid was snaked around his body, his breathing slowed in sleep. He shifted again, his eyes shut tightly. He gasped a bit, then twisted around to sit up, but the safety restraint belt held him back. He lifted a hand to his forehead, his cobalt eyes drifting over the controls of the cockpit, as though to affirm where he was. He sighed and shook his head, undoing the restraints to sit up fully.  
  
    There was a blip on the left hand viewing screen, and he blinked, looking over at it. OZ Mobile Dolls. God he hated those things...He watched the flash of light through space as the Dolls fired at something. At first, he assumed that it was just target practice, but as he looked closer, he noticed that something was firing back...He switched a few dials on the radar, blinking as two unidentified suits appeared... and Sandrock. The mechanical signature couldn't be anything but Sandrock.  
  
_'Quatre...'_  
  
    Duo quickly set the dials and buttons all across the control panel. If there was one thing that set Deathscythe Hell apart from any of the other Gundams, it was his cloaking system. No radar could pick up his signal, and if he was stationary, he could blend into any background.  
    Duo grinned. He'd give these Dolls a run for their money. He couldn't stand the thought of assassin machine's. No soldier deserved that.     _'No soldier deserves this... Heero... are you a soldier like us? Or a killing machine like them... I don't deserve this...'_  
  


* * *

[_I know I could love you much better than this._]  
  
    Duo sighed, sitting on one of the consoles in the Peacemillion. He glanced at Howard and Noin who were leaning over a desk strewn with papers. They had been studying and talking about those schematics, maps, and official papers for hours now. Quatre and Trowa had already left to go to sleep, but Duo remained, sitting half in the shadows, his black outfit making him blend into the darkness. He could barely hear Noin and Howard's words anymore as they discussed the next move they should make in the war. Duo sighed again and pulled one leg up to drape his arms over the propped up knee. Howard looked up at the sigh, glancing over at the young pilot.  
    "Duo-kun, maybe you should go to bed now? You need the sleep." The old man questioned, quirking his head. Duo couldn't help but smile slightly. He had been so relieved to see Howard and the sea sweepers again...He had been sure they had been killed in that storm. When he had told Howard this, the old man had grinned and laughed at him, telling him that it wasn't that easy to kill off a sweeper. To Duo, it meant one less drop of blood on his hands.  
    "Shinigami doesn't need to sleep." Duo replied cryptically and Howard raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine, Howard." He grinned and shook his head, as though to clear himself from his pensive mood. The old man looked at him for a moment, then nodded and turned back to Noin, who pointed out something to him. Their voices faded into a soft hum in the back of Duo's mind.  
    The Shinigami was silent and still, looking beyond the two figures, to look out at space.  
    _'Hey Heero... I wish I could contact you, but I can't find you anywhere, so I guess I'll have to wait until you come to find me...like you always do. Without warning...without reason...just show up on my doorstep... this time I'll be waiting... because I know I love something again. I hate it... this feeling... this knowledge...but I think I can stop it now. I used to think that it was enough that I fought - that they couldn't ask anymore from me. But you have. You asked for more. And I think you were the answer to your own question. I'm doing this for you, Heero. I will bring you peace...It's enough for me to bring you peace...'_  
  
[_Full of grace._]  
  
    Duo curled up in Deathscythe's huge hand, his hair loose. The chestnut strands hung over him like a long curtain. Around them, the hanger was silent, the Peacemillion deep in slumber. But Duo didn't sleep. He stared up at Deathscythe's face, the Gundam dark and quiet.  
    "Ne...partner..."  
  
[_Full of grace._]  
  
    Duo sat up slowly, hair dragging over the cold metal. His clerical shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loosely from his shoulders. He pressed his small hand into the center of Deathscythe's palm and smiled slightly.  
    "...my partner..."  
  
[_My love._]  
  
    _'...Heero... where are you...?'._

* * *

End Part 3


	4. Do What You Have to Do

    Dear lord O.o; I'm actually done with parts 4 and 5. I can't believe it. I stayed up til 4 AM writing, but they're finally finished. Why stay up so late? ^^; Well, it's all thanks to Tyr. This particular individual helped me a great deal, by generously offering to send the first three chapters of FTE out to all the GWing mailing list they were on, which were quite a few(I'm not on but more than 1 ML because I just can't handle the mail load ^^;). This generated feedback from several people that truly encouraged me to write. Again, thank you Tyr! ^^  
    I still can't believe I finished this in one night O.o; Saaaa...Well, it turned out better than I expected it too, though it's a bit confusing in parts. Oh well ^^; I hope you enjoy.  
    Also. I try not to use too much Japanese in my fics, but this phrase is actually written in hiragana in the story, so I wrote it in romanji. The phrase is "Genki da ne?" which means "Are you alright?"  
  
  
Do What you Have to Do  
By Ashura no Miko  
Do What you Have to Do by Sarah McLachlan  
___________________________  
  
  
[_What ravages of spirit  
conjured this temptuous rage?_]  
  
    The ZERO system's lights flickered to life within Wing Gundam's cockpit. The minute buzzes and clicks as the monstrous machine ran the system checks were the only noise in the tiny space. Outside the thick gundamium walls and mechanisms, the vacuum of space sucked in all external sound, and the thrusters on Wing's legs fired on silently. Within the metal giant's hollow chest, a small boy woke up slowly as the machine that connected directly to his brain began to fire signals to him. Prussian blue eyes widened, staring blankly at the head screen placed in front of his face. Slowly raising powerful hands, he carefully removed the ZERO helmet from his head, and blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted to the light in the cockpit, the view screens showing him a pixilated version of space. Whatever beauty space had once represented to man meant nothing to the expressionless boy who leaned back casually, yet stiffly in the cockpit chair. Instead, his eyes swept the machine stats on the bottom of the left hand screen. With deft, keyboard familiar fingers he brought up the main screen stats, reading over recent messages and reports. Brief firings of light and words swirled in his pupils as his brain deciphered the complex codes that had been sent to him. One message caused him pause, written in simple hiragana.   
  
    _'Genki da na...?'_  
  
    He closed it and scrolled on to the next one.  
  
[_Created you a monster,  
broken by the rules of love._]  
  
    Heero curled in the cockpit chair, his arms pressed against his chest, rolling onto his side. The position was wholly unnatural for him - he was used to sleeping straight out on his back, but after two hours, he was still unable to attain sleep. He shut his eyes and slowed his breathing, listening to his heart slow down to the regular, slow beat that it needed to let the body rest. For a moment, his mind blanked, as he though he might be able to slip back into the restful sleep he had left a few hours ago when he read the incoming documents, but the moment passed, and unconsciousness still eluded him. He growled in anger, yet nothing presented itself for him to blame. But then...  
  
    _'Genki da na...?'_  
  
    He bolted upright, glaring at the view screen as though it might shrink back in fear as a living being would, but it just continued to broadcast the view of space to him, unfazed. He lifted one hand and typed across the control rapidly, space disappearing to resume scrolling through recent documents. His clacking stopped abruptly, then slowly pressed enter. The katakana sprung to the screen again, and Heero stared at the dancing pixels before his eyes.   
    The origin of the message was impossible to determine, but the message was not coded - open for anyone to read. Heero scowled at the simple phrase that dared to try and stare him down.  
    '_Heero....genki da na...?'_ He slammed one finger down to reply to it, rapidly typing, in his own words automatically coded so that only the person he was writing to would understand his simple, unimportant message.  
  
    _'Don't bother me again.'  
  
    
_He reached out to press 'ENTER'....  
  
    _'Heero...genki da na...?'  
  
    
_His hand moved away from the 'ENTER' button and he deleted the reply message before closing the screen, self-loathing scalding his throat as he lay down again.  


* * *

[_And fate has lead you through it,  
you do what you have to do._]  
  
    Heero stared at the blank metal walls of Peacemillion, running his hardened fingers over the planes of stainless steel that comprised all the hallways of the space fortress. He walked the corridors silently, save for the soft thud of his sneaker clad feet against the hard floor beneath him. Each step brought him a little closer to something that he both dreaded and needed.  
     He felt like he was walking back against a current, or through a dream, rather than the fluorescence-lit ship. Perhaps the metal walls, cooled to a biting cold by the temperature regulating system, pulled his mind back enough to keep him upright.  
    He paused, stopping at the door that had summoned him here. He blankly stared at it, eyes grazing over the name that had been scrawled messily across it in permanent black marker. The fact that he was unsure caused anger, built by fear, to clench in his gut, his hands mirroring it as they curled into fists. One of which, he used to knock on the door before him.   
    There was no reply.  
  
[_And fate has led you through it  
you do what you have to do..._]  
  
    The door slid open with an almost inaudible 'whoosh', and Heero stepped into the significantly warmer hanger within the heart of Peacemillion. Divided into sections to accommodate to the thin design of the space fortress, each "room" was designed to hold about three Mobile Suits. Due to the amazing hulk of the Gundams, they could only fit one in per "room", and this particular room housed the majestic darkness of Death. Even Heero had to admit there was something about the L2 Gundam that inspired awe in anyone who looked at it. Its black facade and glowing green eyes could paralyze it's enemies with fear, and the huge thermal scythe that defied the laws of nature only added to it's supernatural aura. How someone as bright and cheerful as Duo could be that close to Death baffled Heero, but the braided boy seemed to have an affinity with both his metal partner and it's spiritual counterpart - Shinigami, as Duo called it. A rather silly, melodramatic Japanese term for the Reaper, but it fit the Gundam and its pilot.  
    Heero made his way along the thin catwalk without trepidation. The thin metal bars were the only railing between him and an 18 meter drop, but the Wing pilot wasn't bothered until he glanced down at Deathscythe's huge hand. Laying across the palm of the great black beast was the very boy he was looking for...The arm of Deathscythe had been raised up, to make a flat surface, and Duo lay stretched across it, arms, head, and loose hair dangling dangerously over the fatal drop to the ground, back arched gracefully in slumber, black clerical shirt unbuttoned, unaware of his precarious position.   
    Afraid that if he tried to wake Duo by making noise the other boy would be surprised and fall, Heero moved to the ladder attached to the catwalk, moving down it until he was at a safe enough distance to latch on to Deathscythe's immense body. Once he had a good grip, he began to climb up to the shoulder joint. He made his way over the arm carefully, finally reaching the palm.   
    Duo was sitting there, looking up at him with cobalt blue eyes that seemed to drag him down.  
  
[_And I have the sense to recognize,  
that I don't know how to let you go._]  
  
    "...Du..." Heero stared down at the violet eyed beauty, but found himself unable to do or say anything, or even manage a glare. The word's he'd planned to say left him when his eyes met those of the fey boy kneeling before him. The very idea of turning and storming away was so repulsive to him now that he had already dismissed it. Faintly, he felt the pull to leave the darkly dressed boy who had become his first and only lover, but just as always, the urge to remain beside him became stronger with each meeting. And this time, it was almost too strong to resist. Duo smiled up at him, but it was more like a smirk as he lifted one pale hand, long, graceful fingers wrapping themselves into the green material of Heero's tank top. The Japanese pilot didn't resist him as he pulled him down to connect their lips. The next few minutes blurred and blacked out for Heero, the mind numbing sensations of Duo's lips and hands too intense to allow any other train of thought. When he felt himself pull back to breathe, he was laying down on Deathscythe's hand, straddling Duo's slender form, hands buried in the silky locks that spread all around him. He stared down into the cobalt eyes and felt caught, unable to break the gaze. They were half lidded, and gazed up at Heero with such flippant intensity that the other boy wondered how Duo managed to create such an emotion without thought.   
    "...I knew you'd come..."  
    Heero's face softened at Duo's almost inaudible words. It was too much trust. Too much fragile trust in his hands - hands that didn't know their own strength. He wanted to open his mouth and tell Duo that he'd been wrong, that he hadn't come here for this. That he was going to leave soon. That he didn't deserve that trust. But all he could do was lower himself on trembling limbs to meet Duo's too tempting lips again, and at that moment, he knew he was lost.  
  
[_Every moment marked  
with apparitions of your soul._]  
  
    The hatch of Deathscythe's cockpit was shut, granting the couple within it perfect darkness, though it was only Heero who gazed into it. The light weight on top of him was pleasant, almost comforting, rather than stifling as he would have imagined had he not been lying there. The cockpit chair was hard beneath his back, but the soft, supple figure that lay on his chest made up for any discomfort he felt from laying in the small, confined space of the Gundam cockpit. His hand slowly traced down the side of the figure curled up on him, calloused fingers running over the soft skin that covered firm muscles. Chestnut strands covered Heero's bare body like a blanket, and his arms clasped Duo's curled figure to him tightly. Duo shifted a little as the arms tightened, then resumed dozing in his post-coital lethargy.  
    Heero, though, didn't try to follow Duo into sleep. The separation of wakefulness and sleep was all he could cling to at the moment, Duo's body all too close and all too warm for him to distance himself from it. And somehow, the idea of disrupting Duo's sleep just didn't settle well with him. He had killed people for merely getting in his way, yet waking this beautiful disturbance seemed almost morally wrong to him. He scowled faintly, but still couldn't bring himself to sit up, though he swore when Duo did wake, he'd return to his room and leave the long haired boy here with his 'partner'.  
    He breathed in Duo's scent and felt himself begin to relax. The familiar smell invaded his senses and pulled him down into the restfulness he'd been seeking since that message Duo had sent had come to him. Nights of tossing and turning seemed far away all of a sudden, the warm body atop him finally bringing him the comfort he both desired and rejected at the same time. For a moment he tried to resist the darkness, hoping that if he defied the ease that Duo gave to him, he'd be able to escape those violet eyes that had so swayed and changed him, but eventually the need for rest won out, and he slipped into oblivion.  
  
[_I'm ever swiftly moving  
trying to escape this desire._]  
  
    Heero stood on the cat walk, his clothes hastily replaced on his body, sneakers untied. He gazed down into Deathscythe's now opened cockpit, which was a good ten yards away from him. Inside the small space, Duo leaned his head on his arms, which in turn were placed on his propped up knees. Unmindful of his nudity, the long haired boy watched Heero with unwavering cobalt eyes, and the Japanese boy felt himself shift under the weight of this gaze. He didn't understand how he could feel such nervousness and fear when the young American could gaze at him without even blinking. Was Duo even better at disguising his feelings than he? Or was the long haired boy not moved at all by their meetings? Heero desperately tried to deny the latter, but the thought that the smiling Shinigami felt nothing for him past sex was all too easy to see. That was why he had to leave. If he turned his back first, then he'd never have to watch Duo walk away from him. Besides...he wondered if Duo even felt that remorse at all.  
    He turned and began to walk away, not pausing it look at the youth he was leaving behind, too afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from walking straight back into those comforting arms and bright eyes that promised Death. He was sure of that now. Duo was Death, just as he claimed. Bright and cheerful, but a road to death nonetheless. And Heero had been walking his path for far too long. Sometimes he wondered if his turning and walking away even helped anymore. Duo drew him forward every time - urging him to find him again. Sex was a grand excuse for what was quickly turning into obsession, and as Heero shut the door, he realized that the cold metal and steel was not enough of a barrier to keep his longing for Duo at bay.  


* * *

[_The yearning to be near you...  
I do what I have to do._]  
  
    Heero slammed both his hands into the metal walls of his barren room within the Peacemillion, in a futile attempt to stop the shaking of his arms. He hung his head, breath coming as though he had just run a marathon, though he had only walked the distance between the hanger and his room. In his mind, it was the hardest he had ever run before. It had been a run to escape the desire to return to Death's waiting arms. Laughter bubbled up inside of himself, hard and self-depreciating. A soldier chased Death, not the other way around...But in the end, he realized, it _had_ been him that chased his pale Shinigami. Duo never came looking for _him._ Duo never searched him out. Duo never seemed to feel the desperation and need that he felt. As everything else in this life, it was merely a joke to the American. Even Death was a joke to him. Was it even possible for Death to feel? The supposed 'perfect soldier' was also not supposed to feel - but only someone with great compassion can fight with all their heart, and Heero's childhood honesty and emotions had served him well up till now, giving him all the compassion he had needed to fight completely. Now it was that same compassion that drew him further and further away from his goal.   
    War was the only constant in their world, and now was the critical moment that might decide whether or not peace would ever even come to them at all. Now was the time that his emotional detachment and deadly accuracy was most needed. Now was the time that the 'perfect soldier' would be able to do his best for both Earth and space. But it was now that all that particular soldier could see was Death. And what good was peace without life...? Why fight so hard if all it meant was death?   
    For the first time in his life, Heero found himself questioning his actions. Regret. It was something he had only felt once...but this feeling of questioning was foreign to him. He lived his life forward - he did what he had to and then decided later on whether or not it was the right thing to do. But now... now he was thinking of the future. It was something that he could not afford to consider.  


* * *

[_The yearning to be near you...  
I do what I have to do._]  
  
    Sleep had never seemed so tempting. Nor so elusive.   
    He had hoped that a brief time with Duo would cure his insomnia, but it only seemed to have made it worse. Before, he had managed to make it through the night by taking short, light cat naps that left him tired and weary for the next day, though with just enough energy to complete his missions and daily tasks. But this was something that was completely alien to him. This was the complete and utter inability to achieve even the lightest sleep.  
    The sterilized, crisp sheets that had been provided him now lay rumpled on the ground, where Heero had angrily tossed them about an hour ago. Peacemillion was quiet, save for the low, constant thrum of the engines that kept it in its mid Earth orbit. But neither the silence nor the darkness of the room could lure him into unconsciousness. It was the most irritating and frustrating feeling, his fingers twitching with excess energy as his body lay frozen with the sheer need to sleep. His mind continued to buzz, despite his attempts to calm it and slow his thoughts. Never quite awake, never quite asleep, he was left tired and energetic at the same time, torn between the desire to jump out of bed and pace, and the desire to sleep for hours.   
    He refused to acknowledge the fact that Duo might bring him the sleep he so needed, rolling over to once again try to drift off.  
  
[_But I have the sense to recognize  
that I don't know how to let you go._]  
  
    Cold prussian eyes gazed down at the comfortably sleeping figure, and the anger and jealousy that Duo could rest to easily almost tempted Heero to reach out and hit the face that had burned itself onto the back of his eyelids. The idea of hitting Duo seemed so repulsive and yet so wickedly tempting that Heero swayed on his feet, stepping back before he could give into that temptation. The tiredness and confusion left his senses fogged and clouded, and he didn't check to see what he was stepping back on to. The slight noise of Heero's foot kicking a bag was enough to wake the dark soldier, and Heero could faintly make out the graceful outline of Duo's rising form.  
    "Heero...?"  
    The scowl rose unbidden to Heero's face - though he knew Duo couldn't see it in the darkness, it was the only defense he had against those violet orbs that still shined at him through the blackened room.   
    "Heero...why are you here?"  
    That was right. He didn't even have a reason to be here. Heero's scowl deepened. No, he had a reason, a very good one. The important part was that he didn't have an _excuse_. He simply would not tell Duo that he needed the braided boy nearby to sleep well - it would give Duo too much power over him. More power than he already had.  
  
[_I don't know how to let you go._]  
  
    Despite the lack of visibility, Heero knew Duo was smiling. He could _feel_ it. He scowled more, but found it felt more like a pout, and so turned his head to the side.  
    "...you...want to sleep here?"  
    Despite the fact that Duo was offering it, Heero felt even worse than before. He had thought that the moment when he had to ask Duo if he could would be the worst, but this was far more degrading. To have Duo offer it as though he were a child who couldn't summon up the courage to even ask for himself... To have Duo offer it when he already knew that Heero wouldn't say 'no' and would have to accept it as a favor... He couldn't even summon up the breath to push the word 'yes' from his lips. Instead he just walked towards the bed, finally standing before it.   
    Below him, Duo blinked up at him almost curiously and the scowl faded from Heero's face, anger already fading...  
  
[_A glowing ember..._]  
  
    The peace was so foreign, so very unreal to the war scarred skin...  
    Cold hands traced Heero's sharp features before moving to cradle his head and slowly lower it to the pillow. Spindly fingers ran through the already mussed dark brown hair, sweeping the bangs from Heero's face. Heero's half lidded eyes stared up at the faint outline of his lover, the burning ache in his chest building as he arched his back off the bed, striving to release the pent up fear and pain.  
  
[_...burning hot..._]  
  
    Warm lips pressed firmly, yet gently against his cheeks and brow, tracing the fine contours of his face as though to memorize it with the sensitive nerve endings around his lover's mouth. The tension leaked from his shoulders, almost as though the bed was eager to absorb it from his exhausted muscles.  
  
[_...burning slow._]  
  
    The haze of sleep began to cotton his mind, but still Duo rocked and cradled him, kissing and coddling him into restfulness. Vaguely, Heero wondered why Duo would do this for him, but the thought was fleeting as the gentle touches of Death lured him to sleep, and the soldier lay vulnerable before its pained violet eyes. Pain that Heero had never seen.  
  
[_Deep within I'm shaken by the violence  
of existing for only you._]  
  
    Heero stared down at the boy beneath him, watching the sleep relaxed features. His pale, ghostly skin was lax and limp over his bones, and slightly transparent in the dim light. Heero could see all the blue veins running like rivers just beneath the inhumanly smooth surface of the boy's face, and Heero's eyes traced every twist and turn of that life giving river. White, cracked lips were parted slightly, and breath spilled forth from them. It was strange to see Duo without the normal, manic grin. It was...  
    Long, dark lashed fluttered slightly, moving up to reveal the tiniest slit of cobalt. Loathe to leave his moment of contemplation, Heero raised a hand to lower the lids again. A look of confusion passed over Duo's face as he tried to open his eyes again, only to find Heero's fingers gently holding them shut, and after a moment, he stilled, not trying to resist the strength of the boy leaning over him.   
    The lights of the small room were dimly lit, run by the computers to simulate 'morning' inside of the space fortress. It was just enough light for Heero to study the other pilot by. Still caught between sleep and confusion at Heero's actions, Duo hadn't yet begun to smile or truly waken, leaving Heero free to take in the face he so rarely saw. It was the most earnest look he had ever received from Duo - and it wasn't even aimed at him. Of course, it made sense that Duo would only be honest with him when he was unaware. Heero knew he'd never see such truth from the American - not to his face, not for his sake alone. That could only come from liking. Loving. The very word made Heero recoil, sitting up straight in the bed, gazing down at Duo with hard, cold eyes.   
    Duo's eyes blinked rapidly before remaining open, and he stared up at Heero with confusion, before taking in the glare. The long haired boy blinked again, then smiled amiably, any and all earnesty dissolving from his face.  
  
[_I know I can't be with you.  
I do what I have to do._]  
  
    "Heero..."  
    The Japanese pilot watched him, unblinking.  
    "Ne...Heero..."  
    The cold, prussian eyes stared deeply into Duo, searching for an unnamed emotion that he could never find.  
    "Heero...genki da na...?"  
    The air caught in Heero's throat, and he just stared silently at Duo, the ticking of the bedside clock filling his ears, along with the huff of the vents as they filled the small room with fresh air. The lights hummed softly as the voltage given to them was increased, brightening the room a bit more. Duo lifted an arm to shade his recently opened eyes from the electronic light that buzzed from the bulbs in the ceiling. Heero blinked slightly, eyes still tracing the slight figure before him, watching the smile return as Duo laughed softly and lowered his arm. Even that...  
  
    '_Heero...genki da na...?'_   
  
    The concern he had hoped was there still rested on the lips that smiled so ruefully up at him. There was an ache in his chest, and Heero felt a brief flare of anger before he realized that he had forgotten to start breathing again. He gritted his teeth and began to take the manufactured air into his lungs. He glared at the grin that had mocked him. The lips that grinned at him, yet still asked him if he was alright...even that... Even that which had taken sleep from him was no more than a joke.  
    "I'm fine." With that he stood, not having to pick anything up, and walked directly to the door, hitting the open button with more force than was necessary. The metal panel slide open, and Heero walked out, hearing it shut behind him.   
    In the hallways, he let out a shuddering breath and fought down the plainly irrational urge to break down right there.  
    _I can't do this._  


* * *

[_I know I can't be with you.  
I do what I have to do._]  
  
    Heero turned the locks on the space suit until they clicked, locking the metal rings of the gloves to the rings of the arms before picking up the helmet. He put it over his head, slid the ring around to lock tightly, and walked out onto the walkway that led towards Wing. The giant Suit stared down at him, almost accusingly, and Heero felt the insane urge to apologize to it. He sighed softly and shook his head. He wasn't like Duo, always talking to his Gundam as though it were a living being. Heero's head snapped up and his bit his lip hard. Again. Again and again and again...why did all his thoughts have to come back to Duo somehow...?  
    "Heero...?"  
    He turned to face Relena, and for once felt relief to see her. Usually when he saw her, he felt the tension in him between the instincts that told him to kill her for the mission, and the respect and even slight affection that told him to protect her. But this once, it was a relief to see her face staring back at him, and not that grin that was burned into his mind. Her eyes were concerned, and Heero shook his head, pushing off a wall to float to Wing, catching the edge of the cockpit and pulling himself in. She followed him, and for the first time he gave in to the urge to actually speak to her. It would almost be easier if he did feel affection for her - at least he'd know that she did return it. But...  
    Wing rocketed from the hanger, and he could hear her screaming ringing in his ears. He felt a certain sense of remorse, but not the same dragging regret that he could only associate with two sets of eyes. One dead, one still smiling mockingly at him. He'd never feel that kind of regret again. He fired Wing forward. Never again. Not with any person. Not the regret of killing or the regret of...the regret of...  
    "Heero, stop!!"  
    He silently apologized to Relena, but still moved forward. He'd never feel this regret again. Because after this battle he'd never have to face those eyes again. Because after this battle, he'd never feel the need to chase those welcoming arms and poisonous lips. Because after this battle...he'd be...  


* * *

[_And I have sense to recognize but..._]  
  
    Wing shuddered with the force of the explosion, but to Heero the jarring sensation meant peace. The temperature of the cockpit began to rise rapidly, the temperature regulating systems unable to cope with the intense heat of the Earth's atmosphere. Heero felt a smile drift over his lips slowly, though it was more like a smirk than a true smile. He was done.  
    The battle was over. Libra was destroyed. Zechs was dead. Treize was dead. OZ was gone. Their war was over. This was peace. And he was searching out his own peace.   
    Pieces of Wing began to be ripped off by the metal crushing force of their reentry, and it was clear that before they even were halfway through, the burning heat and pressure would destroy the Gundam. And then he'd never have to face those eyes again.  
    "Heero!! Libra...!!" A voice from the Peacemillion interrupted his rest, crackling with static over the speakers.  
    Heero's eyes snapped open, staring up at the forward view screen to find a large piece of Libra rocketing towards him. His eyes widened as he stared at the piece, mind quickly calculating that such a structure would still cause immense damage to the Earth. He looked down, staring at the controls before him. The chance to stop this...the chance to...  
    _'Have I ever really known peace...?'_  
    His hands clenched into fists as he remembered the feel of warm, soft skin beneath his fingertips. He was trading Death for Death. Live with Death. Die for Death. Either way, he knew those eyes would follow him where ever he went...  
    "Heero!!"  
    ...but...  
  
[_I don't know how to let you go._]  
  
    He slammed his hand down against the controls, the Buster rifle firing a huge blast of energy towards the Libra fragment, disintegrating it as it fell. He was jarred harshly as the Gundam's wings were opened behind him and the thrusters carried him up wards. Back into space.  
  
[_I don't know how to let you go._]  
  
    He could hear their cheering. He could hear the shouts and laughter. No more war. It was over. He stared blankly at the controls, then looked up at the view screen as faces began to appear on it. Quatre's ecstatic smile. Trowa's slight, but respectful nod and quirk of his lips. Wufei's admiring obsidian eyes and bow. The Peacemillion's cheering crew, along with the joyful faces of Howard, Relena, Noin and Sally.  
    And then there was... Heero turned to look at the right view screen, staring into those eyes he still couldn't escape.  
  
[_I don't know how to let you go..._]  
  
    "Heero...genki da na?"  
    Unable to do anything else but nod, Heero slumped in his seat.  
  
________________________________  
  
    Thank you to everyone who ever gave me feed back. I appreciate it still, and maybe one day I'll finish all those unfinished GWing projects in my folders. 


	5. Captive

    Notes: ^^ Here's a biggie - This chapter takes place about a year and a half after the last chapter. This occurs after the Marimeia incident, in other words, after Endless Waltz. This is when the Wild Wing Boys have joined the Preventers, so if any of them talk about 'missions' they're talking about the Preventer missions, to stop possible wars from occuring.  
  
Captive  
By Ashura no Miko  
Captive by Sarah McLachlan  
___________________________  
  
[_The streets are dark and empty now  
time for another day_]  
  
    Faint light rolled down the long streets of a city on Earth. Above the towering buildings, the real sun sunk towards the horizon, its desperate rays reaching out over the faded blue sky. In the last part of its daily journey, it descended as though reluctant to leave, clinging to its last light. Finally, the Earth rolled away, and the golden rays disappeared completely. Night swallowed the streets, and man-made lamps flickered to life, bathing patches of sidewalk in sickly yellow light. Neon signs flashed and illuminated the walls with unnaturally bright, colored beams.   
    Time dragged on through the night, and despite the late hour people continued to wander the noisy streets. A man pushed the collar of his coat up further, trying to cover his face: half to hide himself from the beggars at his feet, half to warm his frozen cheeks up. Another man walked confidently, his briefcase swinging in one hand, his head held up with the look of one who knows where he's going - home. A crowd of teenagers pushed their way through, laughing loudly, drink fresh on their breath and their dress outrageous. Among the crowd of marching people, a man staggered and bumped against others, his face shadowed by a ragged coat, full of alcohol and loss. On the corner, bathed in yellow light that shadowed her face, a young girl of about thirteen held tightly to a lamp post. She wrapped a leg around the post, sliding herself down it, her head lolled back in fake ecstasy as her short, ragged skirt rode up her thigh. She twirled and ran herself back up the pole, then lightly stepped off as an older man approached her, money in his hand. No one turned a head at anyone. They blended into one living mass of crawling futility, each bump and jostle no more than a hinderance to them.   
    Among them, the dark figure fit right in, its long braid fluttering out behind it.  
  
[_Well I walk alone collecting my thoughts  
that have gone astray_]  
  
    Duo's dark cap was pulled low, his bangs shadowing his face as he wandered the cramped yet lonely streets, as though a ghost. No one appeared to see him, and he dodged the crowd without even moving. His head was hung, staring at the filthy ground passing beneath his feet. He looked up briefly as he passed a particularly raucous bar, but walked by it like all the others, not entering. He hated the men inside them, the noisy music, and the smell that hung heavy in the air. But most of all, he hated the alcohol itself, and rarely ever touched it. He couldn't stand the acidic taste it left in his mouth when he woke up, and the stench of smoking sickness on his skin. He did enjoy its temporary relief, the feeling of freedom that it gave him for one night, but the putrid feeling in his stomach and mind wouldn't let him. Besides, escape was for cowards who couldn't deal with their own life. He was a Gundam pilot...had been a Gundam Pilot, and by definition, he could deal with anything. He laughed to himself. So what if he had more reason to escape than any drunk tonight? The pain reassured him. Only the living feel pain.   
    He stumbled slightly as a pedestrian hit his shoulder. He pivoted with practiced ease, narrowly avoiding the other passersby, carefully falling against a wall, leaning his back against it, never taking his hands out of his pockets. He slouched against the wall, no longer moving, just watching the crowd shuffle past him. None of them turned an eye.  
  
[_All of the memories, all of the dreams  
still remains entwined_]  
  
    Duo's face was obscured by his bangs, the shadows hiding his usually bright violet eyes. His breath floated in the cold air, his cheekbones stung slightly pink by the wind. He couldn't recall how long he stood there when he finally looked up, when his dilated violet eyes took in the cold night air and the unnaturally bright light of the city. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there, or how long he'd been there. All he remembered was leaving the small, dingy hotel room he was sharing with his fellow Preventer.  
    He remembered leaving that evening, looking at the walls of the room, decorated by strangely lit night shadows, and in the center of the room, cradled in the embrace of the half broken mattress, Heero Yuy lay tangled in sweat-dampened sheets. And over him, one lost American pilot stared down, his eyes studying him with the curious intensity of one who didn't understand. Couldn't understand. Duo had left then. In fear, in anger. He couldn't remember which it was, or maybe that it was both. But what ever it was, it hurt. More than he wanted to hurt. And so he had run away from his pain. He would admit that. He didn't deny the fact that he was a coward. He even introduced himself as one....  
    '_I am Duo. Duo Maxwell. I run, I hide, I do everything. But I never lie. Duo Maxwell._'  
    He repeated it to himself silently, trying to reassure himself.   
    '_Yes...you never lie, do you? Except to yourself. Yes, whenever it's convenient, you lie to yourself to make it feel better. Because you see? You run from everything that frightens you - even the truth._'  
  
[_All that we've had, and all that we've known  
are little by your mind_]  
  
    With no little effort, Duo managed to bring himself back, pushing himself off the broken down old wall, the jagged edges leaving indents in the coat he was wearing. He edged his way back into the flowing crowd, moving in the direction of the hotel, where his fear slept. A fear he couldn't conquer.  
    '_Don't fear the Reaper, little one._'  
    What was able to frighten Death? What could possibly worm its way into Shinigami's mind, and scare the Devil itself? Add that to the Perfect Soldier's list of perfect missions. And one that he didn't even blink twice at. Of course, Heero never acknowledged anything save a good 'Ninmu Kanryou'. He told others to act on their emotions, to follow their feelings, and he dismissed their feelings at the same time. How did he manage to keep everything so neutral? Only Heero Yuy could be passionately dispassionate. Only the perfect soldier could achieve such a goal.  
    Duo coughed into his hand, the cold air nipping at the inside of his throat. The movement of the crowd pressed bodies against him, and he felt as though he was being carried back to the hotel. Like an unrelenting river of fate carrying him back. He chuckled dryly. Yes, this was where he was supposed to be. This was where he wanted to be. Only the living felt pain, and he wanted that pain so badly.   
  
[_I only wanted someone to believe in oh,   
but your words they're seldom found_]  
  
    '_Tell me I'm still alive Heero. Make me hurt until I can't scream anymore, let me know that of all the dead bodies, I am the one that can still hurt. When you come after me, I can see it. You hate me. Because I confuse you, because I cloud your mission. But I don't mind. That only makes you hate me more. And when you hate, you hurt. You'll kill me one day, I know. That's why, Heero. I'll make you hate me more than anything else. I believe in that, because you can't tell me anything else.  
    'I swore I'd always be strong, so that no one could hurt me ever again. I was a little fool, wasn't I? I didn't see that it's the strong who suffer the most. The weak take the hurt, but it's the strong who have to shoulder the weak. So what am I doing here carrying a colony on my back? Why am I a soldier? I once told myself that I had been pushed into being Shinigami's pilot by Dr. G. I hid behind the excuse that I killed because I had to, that I was forced into killing because of the world I grew up in. Isn't that childish, Heero? Don't you think? But you see, I realized, Heero, I realized the truth. For once I really saw it. And I liked it. Because I liked killing those people, Heero. No, I loved it. I'm Shinigami. I'm Death. Every life I touch disappears.  
    'People think that it's silly that I call myself that, because I'm always smiling, always joking. But you see through that, and I hate you for it. You told me not to lie, and I wanted to kill you. Just like you wanted to kill me. But we can't, can we Heero? What is it? What is it that can hold Shinigami back? You avoid death so many times in battle, and you're still avoiding it. You cheat Death. You cheat me
_.'  
  
['_Cause when it comes to the problems that were meant to be shared  
you were not around_]  
  
    '_So where are you now Heero? Where are you now...?_'  
    Duo stared at the empty bed. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by the light shining in through the small window, creating a single neon beam of moving light. The bed lay in the center of the room, half broken and splintered. The rickety desk that had held Heero's laptop an hour or two ago was now empty. Water dripped absently from a brown-stained sink in the corner, and the pipe leaked onto the damp carpet below. Other than that, the room was empty, save for one pale American pilot.  
    He just stood there for a moment, then took off the warm jacket, hanging it on a door peg. He slowly made his way towards the abandoned bed and reached down to press his hand to the pillow. Still warm. Heero had left only moments ago.  
    '_Again, we're passing one another by a moment._'  
    Duo let himself sink to the bed, as though the energy had been pulled out of him. He curled up against the warm linens, breathing in the bitter scent of recent sex, and found despite it's reserved heat, it was cold as ashes. Bright violet eyes stared out the wall, surrounded by skin whiter than the sheets, which was covered by the black outfit of saintly death. He curled in on himself, clasping the stained sheets in tightly balled hands, looking like a small child afraid that there was something was in the closet.   
    A mission. He was fairly sure that was the reason. He couldn't think of another one for why Heero would leave so abruptly. Not that he expected to get a 'Good morning' out of his sullen partner; he rarely even got an audible greeting. Despite that, he had hoped to at least have breakfast with him the next morning. He had to laugh at himself this time, at his expectations. After all, their odd coupling was no more than a convenience, wasn't it? The Deathscythe pilot sighed and released the sheets.   
    They didn't necessarily work together during missions. So it didn't really surprise Duo that Heero had left without so much as a goodbye. Heero didn't need to tell Duo where he was going, so he didn't. It was simple as that. And the next time he completed a mission, he'd be back in Duo's bed once more. No explanation, no apologies. He'd just be there at the door waiting, and Duo let him in every time.  
    '_That's it..._' he swore to himself, '_This is going to be the last time...really the last time._' It didn't matter he had sworn that before - many times before. '_Next time...next time..._'  
  
[_Oh but you'll plead with me now  
you always stay_]  
  
    "Nn...Heero...?"  
    Duo found it hard to breath between each painfully taken kiss placed on his skin. Heero's hands were firmly holding Duo's thin waist as he nipped his way down the other boy's neck. Duo put his hands against Heero's shoulders, knowing that if the perfect soldier didn't want to be dislodged, he wouldn't be, but still hoping the action would distance them somehow.  
    Surprisingly enough Heero did back off, though he didn't release Duo's waist. The cold blue eyes gazed stonily into Duo's. He looked no different, but Duo was aware that he was being given a chance to leave now, to make good on his word. He didn't know why Heero was giving this time to consider. He usually came and took what he wanted in his usual childlike manner. Not that Duo complained - often. He rarely felt the want to refuse Heero, and when he did, he never voiced it. He couldn't tell how the perfect soldier would deal with rejection, so he just accepted whatever happened.  
    But here, now, he was being given a choice. More than a choice; he had to make a decision. Heero would just stand here until he told him to go away-...or until he told him to continue. He searched Heero's dark blue eyes and found...nothing. As always. Not even Duo, his lover, could get past those built up shields, just as Heero could never get past that smiling face. Duo lowered his head slowly...he had sworn to refuse Heero this time - to end it all. To end the pain, end the obsession...  
    Duo brought his hands to Heero's cheeks and leaned in to press his lips to his, his violet eyes half shut in defeat.   


* * *

[_You're giving it one breath then  
you're taking it all away_]  
  
    Duo stared at the body dozing his arms. For someone with such cold eyes, it was almost a shock to feel the burning skin now pressed against him. Usually after their coupling, Duo would curl up under Heero's chin, but tonight their positions were reversed. Heero lay tucked up against his chest, his breath warm on Duo's shoulder, while the American pilot cradled him gently. He considered the silent boy in his arms, running long, thin fingers through Heero's messy brown hair and over his shoulders. He wondered if Heero would leave again in the morning. Or if he himself would leave that night, leaving Heero in bed alone again. One left during the day, and the other during the night. But they just kept missing one another by a moment.   
    Heero had offered him a choice this time. Heero had asked him. Asked him. It was the closest Duo would ever get to a token of affection. He had somehow pulled the great Heero Yuy into something he couldn't escape. But as for the perfect soldier himself... Duo knew that if the mission called for it, Heero would sacrifice him for the good of the war. And Duo didn't mind. That was their job. And this was his job. To try and care for a machine, a boy who had forgotten he was human. It was the blind leading the blind in this situation. But Duo knew Heero, and even if he was blind, the Wing pilot would lead them forward, even if it meant walking to their deaths.   
    Heero stirred in his arms slightly, and Duo relaxed them. The Japanese pilot sat up, gazing down at Duo with his unrelenting stare. Duo's deflated violet eyes didn't flinch away from Heero's intense blue ones; there was no fear in that threat anymore. Heero's eyes widened slightly, and Duo wondered, for a moment, if Heero was as frightened as he was. Then Heero's hand hit his face with unbidden force, and Duo's head snapped to the side.  


* * *

[_What is this love that holds me captive in your eyes?  
Well I wish I had the strength to leave it all behind.  
What's done is done, and you do not give a damn.  
Just another heartfelt blow by your careless hands._]  
  
    When Duo awoke, it was midday. He just lay there for awhile, staring up at the white, flaking plaster on the ceiling. He was dimly aware of the throbbing pain in his head, demanding the attention that he would not give. There was something else he had to think about, around the stinging sensation in his temples.   
    Why? What was that look in Heero's eyes? Why had he asked Duo? Why?...Why why why? He could feel the headache amplify itself. He laughed bitterly. Only Duo Maxwell could get a hangover without getting drunk. The laughter dissolved into chuckles, then into a high pitched giggle. He curled into himself slowly, pulling the thin sheets over his equally thin body, and dimly registered that he was hysterical. He didn't care. Or he cared too much to deal with it. Either way it was killing him.   
    '_I told you once... I am destined to be killed by you._'  
    He rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself to his hands and knees, still laughing, his head bowed. The weak feeling in his arms spread to his hips and legs, causing his body to tremble. The muscles of his stomach contracted, heaving up whatever he had eaten last, and then some. He hoped that it would help, but it didn't, it only made him feel worse. The trembling continued, saliva running from his mouth to the bile on the pillow as he sobbed brokenly. No tears came though. There were already too many tears that were needed for the living, and the dead weren't allowed to cry.   
    '_Boys don't cry._'   
    He moaned, curling up more as spots filled his vision, the ache in his middle intensifying, spreading out through his bones. His back shook in loud gasps, trying to breath in the air to accommodate the sobs. His muscles ached. He had worked himself too hard yesterday, and it was taking its toll now. And on top of that, he had let Heero into his house again, even after all that work. Because he couldn't say no to him. It was like an addiction. He couldn't say no, and Heero couldn't stop coming back to him. But there was nothing left now, nothing but a dark, angry mark across his face that proclaimed Heero's ownership of him.  
    Because he couldn't stop now. He hated him because he loved him. And he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop shaking, or running, or hiding, or lying. He couldn't escape those blue eyes that held him down and forced him to live more.  


* * *

[_I never thought in my life I could feel so much pain  
trusting in your kind_]  
  
    Everything hurt.   
    Duo rammed his hands down against the Mobile Suit's controls, hurtling the huge mecha towards the small base. A World Nation resistance group had started up in this area, and he and Quatre had been sent to destroy the main base, using two Taurus suits. Even with the inferior Suits, the two would still be able to win, or so they had thought. The line of defence that the resistance had put up was quite impressive, and already the two were having difficulty breaking it.  
    Gunfire surrounded him, and they knew they were outnumbered, even for their power. Distantly he could hear Quatre calling him back - telling him that he had to stop before he hurt himself. Quatre was silly though. Everything hurt already. This wouldn't make a difference. But he would make one. He'd break the line of defense that would get the other pilot through to the base.  
    Quatre was so kind. Of all the ex-Gundam pilot's, the young Arabian was perhaps the only one who actually gave a damn what happened to the others. His mission was to protect people. The other four were fighting alone, fighting their own wars. Duo wondered, briefly, how his life would have been different if he had chosen Quatre instead. People said their natures matched, both always smiling. It was silly, couldn't they see the difference? Quatre smiled so sincerely. He was far from innocent, but he was gentle, and he truly lived and enjoyed life. So maybe, in truth, they were opposites. But then again, people said that he and Heero were opposites too, like day and night. So maybe Heero and Quatre were complete opposites and he was just in the middle.   
    A missile barely missed Duo's Suit shoulder.   
    Or Trowa. So he was equally as cold as Heero; at least those green eyes were just shields to deeper sadness. As far as he could tell, Heero was just cold upon cold upon cold, with nothing to warm him underneath. Trowa though, had locked them all away in an OZ prison to rot while he continued on his merry way. He had just been acting to deceive the OZ personal, but the acting had almost been too flawless. Too real. But besides that, Duo could deal with quiet types, he could talk enough for both of them. He could see it, really. One day all that grief would come tumbling out with tears and then life would go on. And there'd be perfect times, perfect days. Yeah, just add the smiling sun and Bambi, and it would be complete. No worries at all.   
    Something exploded at his Suit's feet, and he felt the Taurus begin fell back.   
    What about Wufei? Not that the Chinese pilot ever expressed any interest in coming to know any of the others. In fact, he seemed to dislike being in their company at all. And when he had to be, he remained silent and aloof. But hell, like he said, he could deal with the silent type. Then again, unlike Trowa, Wufei would probably be willing to blow his brains out when he became annoying enough. But what an easy way to get out of it all. Annoy your lover into killing you. He wondered if that would be counted as suicide. Well, he had annoyed Heero into beating him, so he couldn't be that far off, could he? So close...  
    ...The sensors blanked, the sounds of rapid fire dulled by the thick walls of metal around him. Inside the cockpit, the red alert light flared against his closed eyelids. Fuel line burst. Electrical cell line disengage. Without command, the Taurus was trying to save itself from destruction at the hands of the enemy Leo's.   
    Small explosions racked the Suit's frame. The air in the cockpit became so hot it was like breathing lead. The faint buzzing in his ears escalated to a roar, shuddering through his aching head. As he opened his eyes, the static of the screens faded in the dark purple fuzz, blurring in his eyes until it became a solid black. Blood flow burst. Brain disengage. Without command, the small spectre of Death was trying to save itself from destruction at the hands of itself.   
    So close...  
    "DUO!"  


* * *

[_I never thought I could feel so alone,  
a faith in love so blind_]  
  
    '_When did I give in this far? When did I expect you to save me? I remember hearing Quatre calling my name...no, I thought it was you. I thought it was you calling out my name in desperation. But it wasn't. It was just my friend, worried. But still, I wanted you to come. And I knew you would. Yes, you came.  
    'But when I woke up, you weren't there. And you hadn't come at all. I had broken the line of defense, just like I told myself I would, and Quatre was able to get through. Mission Completed. Would you be proud? Would you care?... Would you even look at me when I told you? Where I come from, your name means something different. Heero. Hero. You're supposed to be the knight in white armor, riding in to save the day. Not that I could play a damsel in distress well, but at least you'd be there. And I'd know you came for me. But you didn't. You didn't even come at all. We finished our mission and Quatre took me back to the safe house and patched me up. Over and done with. Quatre was worried, but he worries about everyone. He worries because he feels he can't be what everyone expects him to be, so he tries to make everyone like him. Then, no one can be angry at him. It's a foolish policy, but it's worked for him so far. More than it's worked for me.   
    'But maybe that's because his is genuine, while mine is just a pretty picture to show the world. Maybe they can tell. Maybe they all see straight through me, just like you do. Maybe that's why you hate me so much. Why you hit me. Why you fear me. I thought I was in control of this! When this started, I was comforting you. When this began, I moved you. I was able to touch you. When did everything change? When did I lose control of this whole thing? When did it develop a life of its own? When did it run away with mine?
_'  


* * *

[_But after all is said and done,  
the song remains the same._]  
  
    Duo healed fairly fast, but to him it seemed slow. He waited for a week, but Heero never came. When he managed to get himself to a computer and hack into the system, he found that Heero had been on a mission. He hadn't come back for him, and he didn't for a long time.   
    Duo studied the end of the knife. It reflected the light in one sharp band over the sloped edge of the blade. The handle was rough and warm from being held, and so wonderfully real in his hands. The American considered why, now. So Heero had run off with his life, had he run off with his death too? Duo had always considered suicide the coward's way out, and though he had always called himself a coward, he had never thought he would take that way out. He didn't deserve to die. Living brought the pain that he needed to fill himself. What then, was he doing here, sitting in the bathroom of a cheap hotel room, drunk out of his mind, contemplating a knife?   
    In fact, hadn't he told himself just awhile ago that he hated to drink? He wondered briefly why he had stolen the drink in the first place, but found he couldn't even remember, and that he didn't particularly want to remember. What ever it had been, it had almost killed him. Because it had led him to an easy path. A path far to easy for one so far gone as himself. He didn't deserve to die. He had too many sins to atone for.  
    He flicked the pad of his thumb over the edge of the small blade. Blood welled up from the crevasse it created in his skin, flowing slowly over his hand to pool in his palm before dripping onto the floor. Razor. Had he made the right cut, this knife would have been his death - easily. He sighed and let it drop to the floor, standing on fairly steady legs for a drunk man, and made his way back to the unmade bed, too tired to bother with his cut.  


* * *

[_You please yourself and nobody else,  
will you ever change?_]  
  
    Crushed violet eyes looked out on the splayed bodies. Stone rubble surrounded the tiny figure, curled into a ball.   
    Duo rocked slowly back and forth, his knees pulled up to his chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around them, and his mouth and nose were hidden behind them, so that only his wide cobalt eyes gazed out over his bony knee caps. Somewhere, a bell tolled.  
    It started slowly. It always started slowly. Blood welled up from the rocks, filling in between them like the cut on his thumb had. The blood would just slowly trickle its way over the burnt rubble of the church, creeping over the floor at a snails pace. Then the ground would be soaked with crimson, and the tiny bodies of the children would shift, being moved by the blood, floating just a little on the shallow pool. Duo was dimly aware that the red was soaking into his pants and shoes, but he still didn't move. He couldn't do anything but rock. Yes, it always started slow, but before long, it was racing towards him.  
    The blood was thick, and Duo struggled to keep his head above it. He felt the cold lump of an unknown body press into him, and he shoved it away with a strangled cry. The liquid was too thick for him to swim in, and it's stickiness was bringing him down. The bell tolled again: this time it's sound was warped, as though it were ringing underwater. Underblood.   
    When he saw that almost angelic figure moving towards him, he couldn't help but feel relief flood him. He reached an arm towards its bright light, but the blood was like hardening rubber now, stretchy and like elastic. He couldn't reach far enough. And the angel moved on, not able to hear the boy's hoarse, almost inaudible cries...  
  
    Sheets tangled around Duo's body as he came up, struggling for breath. Desperate cries came from his raw throat, but they produced no sound. Outside, someone was knocking on his door, telling him to shut up.  
  
    Summer passed into autumn.  


* * *

[_Oh, but you'll plead with me now,  
you always stay._]  
  
    A few months later found Duo working on L-4. There hadn't been a mission in a few weeks, and so he had picked up his job as a space sweeper again. Sally had e-mailed him, telling him that there had been rumors of a possible conspiracy mounting in colony V50677, within the L-4 cluster, and had asked him to check it out for her.  
    When he had finished packing, he heard the footsteps coming towards his door. He knew then. He hadn't been panicky, but he knew now. The knight in shining white Gundam had come. Finally. Only he was too late. Duo laughed. How perfect. He was too late, and he didn't even have a Gundam anymore.   
    Heero saw the mark his hand had left on Duo's pasty white skin. Even though the bruise has healed, one of the cuts the violent punch had caused Duo had sutured himself to help it heal, and the thread had left stitch marks in his skin. Heero hadn't seen Duo since that time, and he said nothing about it. But something was somehow different. Duo tried to tell him to leave, but the words got no further than his throat, where they caught and stayed until Heero's forceful kiss pushed them back down. And like an addiction, Heero called to him again, as strongly as ever. And Duo knew that he had surrendered any hope of escape then. His fight was over, and the perfect soldier had won again. Mission completed.   
  
[_You give it one breath,   
then you're taking it all away._]  
  
    But that day Heero didn't leave. He just lay there, with a curious look to his eyes. Duo gazed at him. The long-haired boy wanted to laugh, but it didn't come. Nothing did.   
    The American gazed blankly at the ceiling and tried to come up with words or thoughts that made any sense to him, but he found it was just so much easier to remain silent. So he did. Inside and out, Duo remained still. Heero lay beside him, breath coming in short pants, prussian eyes studying the boy next to him. Duo vaguely wondered what it was he saw. Did he see an ex-Gundam pilot, broken by war, then by love, then by peace? Did he see a whore, willing to give his body over without asking for payment in return? Did he see the tired, hollowed out shell that Duo had become? Did he see a corpse...?  
    Whatever it was that Heero saw, he didn't comment on it. But Duo never expected him to. So without knowing the damage they were doing to one another, they lay there and let their wounds bleed inside.   
  
[_What is this love that holds me captive in your eyes?  
Well I wish I had the strength to leave it all behind.  
What's done is done, and you do not give a damn.  
Just another heartfelt blow by your careless hands._]  
  
    The minutes passed away. Day and night passing one another again, just by a moment. And in Duo's head, the gears turned, yet nothing came. Shinigami was down again in battle, and there was no one there to repair it. Every machine has its limitations.  
  
    After everything that had happened, Heero had never noticed. He didn't notice that night, nor the day after, nor the next time he saw Duo. He never noticed that he was holding a doll that had been played with one too many times, and was now broken beyond repair. Everything had been taken and used, and now there was nothing clear or clean left. There was just a hollow smile now, and blank violet eyes. A warm body and cold fingers.   
  
    Duo cradled his lover's body in his arms. He was tired, but sleep would be long in coming. Heero's arm was tucked possessively around his waist, his head resting against the jut of Duo's collar bone. Warm breath flowed over the American's skin. In the night, his unnaturally bright violet eyes glistened out into the darkness, unblinking, unnoticing as silent tears tracked down uncaring cheeks, soaking into the pillow his head rested on. In his arms, his lover slept on, unknowing.  
  
  
___________________________  
  
    Thank you to everyone who ever gave me feed back. I appreciate it still, and maybe one day I'll finish all those unfinished GWing projects in my folders. 


	6. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

  
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy  
By Ashura no Miko  
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy/Sarah McLachlan  
___________________________  
  
[_All the fear has left me now,  
I'm not frightened anymore._]  
  
    Heero leaned back against the headboard of his bed, one hand lazily stroking the chestnut hair spread over his lap. He dragged his worn hands through it, picking it up only to watch as the silky strands slid from his fingers like water. He glanced down at the sleeping face resting on his thighs, and didn't try to resist the slight smile that tugged on the edge of his lips. In the dark, with no eyes on him, there was no point. He smiled.   
    The Preventer dorm room was a bit small for two people to live in, but it was new, and clean, which already made it the most comfortable place that the two had ever spent time in together. Their nomadic lifestyles during and after the war had caused mess and havoc in their temporary rooms - be they dorms or hotel rooms. Those rooms were always 'other places', something not quite their own. But this, here, was their room. With drawers, and a desk that was theirs, and a closet they could fill. And a bed that was used by no one else but _them_. It was... something Heero hadn't had for so long he could barely remember it, and by the way Duo acted, it was something he had never had at all. Of course, there were two beds in the room, but Duo's always remained neat and made, no matter what time of the day or night. It was more comfortable to have him nearby, even if Duo would just smile blankly and lay there.  
    Heero's hand cupped Duo's cheek and glanced down at the American once more. Duo shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake. Heero frowned slightly, studying him with his normal intensity, but as always, the American merely ignored him, eyes shut and breathing steady. The Japanese boy sighed and leaned back again, shutting his eyes and relaxing a bit. It was hard to imagine that he had ever been frightened of the feelings this one slender boy brought him.  
  
[_It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh._]  
  
    Heero let the silky strands drop from his fingers, absently arranging them on the sheets, until they formed something of a halo around Duo, the chestnut locks looking almost black in the darkened room. The Japanese boy's lips quirked slightly before lowering his arms to carefully lift Duo's sleep relaxed torso from his lap, to deposit the other boy on the bed. He slowly unwound his arms from the American and slipped quietly off the bed, careful not to wake his companion. Heero silently walked towards the small window that looked out over the sizable colony that Preventer Headquarters was located upon. The colony was in "night" mode, and its specially designed buildings seemed translucent in the darkness, the lights of the streets rebounding off the glasslike surfaces - it was a sight that Duo would have loved. That is, if he was even aware enough to notice it. Heero hung his head.  
    How long Duo had been like this, dead to the world, Heero did not know, but he swore to himself that he'd find a way to drag Duo back to him somehow, even if he was kicking and screaming the whole way. After all, it was all his fault, really.  
    He and Duo had begun their strange, obsessive affair during the war of 195 A.C., when the Gundams had first been created, and they had somehow managed to carry it and themselves through that, the next year, and the Marimeia incident. After all that...they couldn't just give up now. Heero couldn't just give up now, not when it hadn't been so long ago that he had forced himself to keep going. So that left them here - alone, silent, in a small dormitory at Preventer Headquarters. And yet, somehow, at some point in all of that, Duo had slipped away from him, and he couldn't figure out when or where and how that happened. What visit, what incident was it that had pushed Duo's tantalizing spirit out of his reach? Somehow, Heero didn't think that it had been pushed to a place any better than this. Even if this place was so miserable and old, Heero felt that Duo's mind was in a hellhole even worse than this world.  
  
[_It's my mouth that pushes out this breath._]  
  
    Heero sighed and turned his back to the window, leaning back against it. He stared down at his bare feet, pressed against the flat, hard carpet that covered the floor. He shut his eyes slowly, hanging his head even more, sighing for a second time before raising his head to gaze nervously at the figure on the bed. He had never been apprehensive about anything in his life. It was a strange, unpleasant feeling that made his gut ache. As though sensing Heero's uncomfortable gaze upon him, Duo rolled over, blank, wakeful eyes coming to rest on the Japanese boy. He sat up on the bed slowly, his hair sliding over the pillows and sheets with mesmerizing grace. Heero stared at him, transfixed.  
    "Why are you up?" Duo asked quietly, as though afraid that Heero might actually hear his question.  
    "Hn... I..." Heero paused, averting his eyes awkwardly. He had seen other people do it, when they had to admit something that they didn't really want to say, though he had never done it before himself. He found that it didn't really help much.  
    "...mm." Duo nodded faintly and lay back down on the bed, looking at Heero for a moment before shifting his gaze out to the colony beyond the window pane. Heero waited silently, hoping for the comment that he knew would never come. Only a few months ago, Duo would have started to babble quietly about the colony and its beauty, or perhaps the fragile balance of peace and war, joy and suffering, but this Duo was silent and still... and blank. He was void like a huge gaping wound that would never quite heal, and the worst part of it all was that Heero knew that it was his fault. Duo was the one thing in all the world and colonies who could make him feel human. Well...there were others, Relena, the other pilots...But Duo was the only one who really liked Heero when he was human. Duo was the only one who had valued him when no one else had. Duo was the thing-... person, he amended angrily, that he valued most. And yet, it was he who had ruined him.   
    He stood there, and stared at Duo, but was unable to say a word to the bed before him. Even though he knew it would only take a few words to begin to heal Duo, he couldn't say a word. There was too much between them that needed to be said, and neither of them would pause to speak. So they just sat in silence, wishing that the other would say what they were so afraid to.  


* * *

[_And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love._]  
  
    A state of nothingness is something that the human mind cannot comprehend. Blackness is what the mind imagines as nothingness, but really, even black is _something_.  
    Duo stared blankly at the mirror before him, as though expecting it to make some action or sound. He lifted one hand to rest on the smooth surface, watching as his reflection mimicked him without hesitation. He dragged his fingers over the cool glass, watching the disappearing condensation as they passed their tips across the coldness. Duo smiled slightly.   
    He knew what nothing was. Nothing. Nothing merely reflected something, because Nothing was there, it just had nothing that was its own. Nothing had no color, or texture, or smell, or sound, or flavor. It merely Was. It was there. Mirrors were Nothing. They could only reflect - never projecting their own image. Nothing was endless mirrors, never reflecting Something. Mirrors with nothing to reflect. Like him. A mirror too shattered to reflect anything properly. And a mirror that can't reflect has no worth - is nothing.  
    Duo sighed and shook his head, smiling ruefully. If he had had the energy to, he would have admonished himself. Depression was not something he could go through. 245 people were dead, who could no longer live and laugh and cry. Joy and depression were luxuries that they would ever be able to experience, so why should he? He was one of them. He was responsible for them. The less he had to feel, the closer he was to them - the closer he was to the dead without dying himself. He didn't have the right to die anymore. After all, he had to atone for all his sins, and he didn't even know how to. If he could just kill all those feelings... wipe them out of his decaying body, and let himself live in silence with Them - the ones who had already left him. Living, breathing silence, with no feeling at all. To be able to purge his body of those clawing emotions was a dream that he could only wish to come true. Then why was it that those feelings clung to him with all their strength? And he with all of his?  
    He watched with fascination as the tears tracked over his cheeks with determined purpose. They were soft, and clear, reflecting the room in a distorted, bulging drop, before dipping below his chin and disappearing. He couldn't even remember crying before, though he was sure that he had at some time.  
    He stared into the mirror in awe. He knew that he had never _seen_ his own tears before. The way his eyes burned and turned red...the way the skin under his eyes became tender and swollen... it was breathtaking. They were there... and yet... not. They reflected, like the mirror - like nothing.  
    Duo lifted his hand to wipe them away, only to find his cheeks dry, and the mirror broken, his hand coated in blood.  


* * *

[_And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  
I won't fear love._]  
  
    Heero cursed audibly, slamming his foot into the side of the bathtub. He gritted his teeth and kicked it again, listening to the quiet groan as the synthetic porcelain began to bend slightly under the pressure. He turned from it quickly and punched the wall with all his pent up anger, the wood splintering and cracking around the blow. Beneath his feet, the shards of glass winced and scraped over the floor. He slowly pulled his fist free of the hole he had created in the wall, sighing as he let it drop to his side, the flare of rage draining away, leaving him with only the after effects of the adrenaline.  
    He didn't know what to do when he had arrived home, just a little while ago. He had entered the dormitory to find Duo absent. He had done a cursory sweep of their single room dorm, and had assumed that Duo had simply gone out. That is, until he had heard the crunching noises coming from the bathroom. He had opened the door, only to have his eyes widen in a mixture of anger and horror at the sight that greeted him.   
    Duo stood in the middle of the small bathroom, surrounded by shards of glass that reflected his image in a thousand different ways. On the wall, the mirror had been shattered to the point where the frame was almost completely empty, the brown backing quite visible. Broken, shimmering shards littered the countertop and the floor, dangerous in their razor, crystalline beauty. Also coating the floor was a smeared, russet red that couldn't be anything else but blood. Duo's blood.  
    After gripping Duo harshly by the shoulders and hauling him out of the bathroom, roughly depositing him on the edge of the bed, he had given his slender lover a glare that would have been a match for the shriveling glares he had given during the war. He had never been one to 'yell' exactly, but the voice he had used on Duo then had booked no argument.  
    "What the hell happened?" He had shaken Duo then, quite violently, watching the American's head snap back and forth like a doll's. "What the hell were you thinking, Duo!?" He had vaguely registered that his voice was rising, both in volume and in pitch. He had taken the fear and panic running rampant in his mind and quickly molded them into anger. Rage.  
    His hands had twisted and tightened around Duo's upper arms, releasing them only when he felt the skin pinch and twist beneath his fingers. There would be bruises there tomorrow, he was sure of that.  
    He had scowled down at Duo, more angry at himself than at the American. He should have foreseen this, should have seen it coming somehow. He should have prevented it, should have been there to watch over his Duo. His hands had curled into self loathing fists once he had released Duo, glaring darkly at the long haired youth.  
    "Stay there." He had cautioned. "Just... stay there." He had felt the terror building up in him, making him shudder slightly as he turned to march into the bathroom. The anger was fading fast, leaving the panic wide open.  
    How long? How long until Duo lost interest in this world and drifted away, just like that? And just disappear with all the souls of all the others Heero had killed? If Duo died... he wouldn't be able to fool himself to think that it wasn't his fault. It was. Duo's slide into depression, the blank look in his eyes, the self mutilation... Heero knew what it all stemmed from.  
    Him.  
    Which all left him standing in the bathroom, staring at the wall he had just punched, with nothing more he could do. And in that moment, the anger faded away completely, leaving only fear.  


* * *

[_Companion to our demons,  
they will dance, and we will play._]  
  
    "Heero?"  
    The young soldier turned back to address his commanding officer.  
    Sally Po watched him with relaxed, worried eyes, different from the severe, stern eyes from just a moment ago, when she had been debriefing him.  
    "Yes?" Heero replied, not one for using names, even to his superiors.  
    "... How are things?" She smiled slightly, but the concern didn't leave her face. Her curls shifted as she quirked her head slightly.  
    "... Fine." He answered cryptically, unable to keep the hint of wariness from entering his voice. Sally's smile faded, and Heero admonished himself. She was only concerned. He should be appreciative, not irritated.  
    "I've noticed that both you and Duo have been looking a little... overtaxed, lately." She paused and wet her lips, debating whether to pursue the issue further or not.  
    She was unsure of how exactly to take care of her five best, but emotionally troubled agents. As of late, she had noticed gradual improvement with Wufei, who had practically become part of her family, and had been encouraging and helping him as best she could. As for Quatre and Trowa, she had been pleased to note that the two had been helping one another along quite well, and needed little encouragement to begin rebuilding their lives.  
    Her brow furrowed as she watched the Japanese boy, noting the dark rings under his eyes that normally weren't there. His piercing blue eyes met hers, as though to challenge her to say anything. Had she been anyone but who she was, it might have ended there, but Sally Po was not to be intimidated by a 17 year old boy - ex-Gundam pilot or no. She merely smiled at him, as though his superior strength and speed meant nothing to her, yet there was no mockery or snideness in her expressions, only respect and concern.  
    "Heero, you're an idiot..." She shook her head slightly, and her face softened. "I'm not your enemy, and I don't intend to be." She sighed and turned away slightly. "Just... if you or Duo are in any trouble, please tell me. You know that I'd do my best to help. At the very least, I could relieve you of some of your missions-"  
    "We'll be fine." He cut in, almost quietly, pausing for a moment before tacking on a quick, "Thank you."  
    She blinked, then smiled slowly. With a slight nod, Sally turned and walked back down the long corridor to her office without another word, knowing that their discussion was now quite closed.   
    Heero watched her go with a puzzled expression. Her concern was founded... and that was what bothered him. Had he become that transparent? How much self-control had Duo caused him to lose? How far had he slipped? He sighed softly and began to make his way back to their room, feeling like he was dragging his feet slightly.  
    'Duo...you are my imperfection.'  


* * *

[_With chairs, candles, and cloth,  
making darkness in the day._]  
  
    The stone walls were built high and thick, each stone transported from Earth. The glass in the windows was recent, but the pictures and colors used in it were old and sacred. Each pew was carefully spaced, with hard, upright backs to ensure that the congregation wouldn't fall asleep during the sermon. At the end of the center walkway lay a table, supported by one, thick stone pillar in the center, rather than by four legs, one at each corner. Laid over the stone table was a pure white cloth, and placed on that were two tall candles, flames flickering at the top and golden holders at their base. The pale light that filtered through the stained glass spilled over the sanctuary, giving it the ethereal feel that was intended.  
    Duo just laughed.  
    "Can I help you?"  
    Duo turned to face the speaker, a middle aged man in a simple, black, clerical robe. The American was not wearing his own clerical clothing, having abandoned it for his Preventer's uniform, his jacket slung over his shoulder.  
    "Hmm?" He questioned vaguely.  
    "I said, can I help you?" The priest asked again.  
    "Oh..." Duo paused, as if processing the question, then smiled brightly. "No, thanks. I'm just looking around."  
    "I see." The man also smiled, but did not move away. Duo's smile faded.  
    "I said, I'm fine."  
    "Yes, I know." The man just smiled and nodded. Duo frowned.  
    "So what was it, old man? The long hair? The soldiers uniform? The smile? Or maybe my voice? Or was it just my manner in general?"  
    "Ah?" The man blinked, face bewildered.  
    "That set you off, I mean. What was it that made you assume that I'm just an idiot that needs to be watched over in case he decides to trash the church?"  
    "Now...young man, I- "  
    "'Cause the way I see it, the only idiot around here is you. You see, there is no God. And even if there was, then He's dead, isn't He? Because if He wasn't, then He'd look after his followers, right? But here you are, despite all that sitting around and blindly believing, and for what? So that you can baby-sit possible believers when they come to around your church? Now, let's say I'm wrong, just for argument's sake, and God is real, and He is alive, and I'm just one of the unlucky sods who's never seen His good grace. Why would you be out here, looking after your precious sanctuary from big, bad soldiers like me, when your God should be able to keep His house safe? Shouldn't your faith in Him be as big as a mustard seed and all that crap? 'Cause right now, it's struggling to make the size of a skin cell. You don't deserve those clothes, or this church. To you, this is just a game where you light these candles everyday and lead poor fools like yourself around by the nose. You don't know what real faith is. You don't know what sanctity is. You just play your little game and pretend to pray to a God who doesn't give a damn. Well, I'll do you a little favor. I'll end it for you." Duo smiled a bit and reached behind himself to draw his hand pistol from his waist band. With unnatural steadiness, he aimed the gun at the man's gut, shutting one eyes for a moment to sight it, then opening it again with a crooked smile. The priest was visibly shaking. "Bang." Duo's cynical smile widened very slightly. "I just killed your faith."  
    With that, Duo calmly tucked the gun back into his waistband and turned his back on the priest, who's knees had given out. Leaving the priest on the ground, Duo exited the church without a backward glance. Once outside, he leaned back against the cold stones of the outer wall.  
    "Forgive me, Father..." He swallowed hard. "For I have sinned."  
  
    The next day, the priest resigned his position.  


* * *

[_It will be easy to look in or out,  
upstream or down..._]  
  
    Heero stared blankly at the empty room, then at the rumpled sheets on the bed, where he had left Duo but a few hours earlier.  
    "Duo?" He questioned quietly, but with all the coldness that had been trained into him. He paused and waited for a reply, even though he knew that Duo wasn't there. He moved forward slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed gingerly, as though afraid of disturbing something.  
    Strong fingers wrapped around cold, dead cotton sheets, and Heero sighed. Whenever Duo had left, it hadn't been recent. Shutting his eyes, Heero let himself fall back against the bed. For once in his restricted life, he let his mind drift. He tried desperately to recapture every expression he had ever seen on his elusive lover's face, as though to preserve those mental images for the droll days to come. Heero frowned slightly. They wouldn't be enough.  
    Everyday he let slip through his fingers was another day that Duo moved farther away from his waking world, and further away from him. He knew, with frightening certainty, that it was his own weakness that was preventing his lover from being his normal self.  
    '_If I were perfect, if I didn't have this weakness, we'd be happy. Happy...is... that is a word I've never used before... you used to use it all the time, even though it never applied to you..._'  
    He opened his eyes without blinking, and stared at the unblemished ceiling.  
    "Duo..." His voice sounded strange in his ears - too soft, too tender. "... somehow... soon... I'll find out how to make you happy... I... I'm sorry." He cursed and rolled on to his side.  
    He wasn't enough. How could he ever be enough if he couldn't even say it to himself without stuttering? The words he needed to say to Duo... yet even when he was alone, with no one else to hear him, he couldn't speak them. He didn't understand. How could Duo stand a coward like him? A coward who couldn't even take care of his own lover...  
    He stared at his hand, which lay in front of his face. He watched the strong fingers slowly curl into his palm, pushing down until his fist trembled with anger and determination.  
    _'One day... I **will** be worthy of you... soon... I'll be able to make you smile again..._'  
    "Duo..." He sighed and up. "...where are you?"  


* * *

[_...without a thought._]  
  
    _"Who are you?"_  
    "I am Shinigami."  
    _"What are you?"_  
    "I am Death."  
    _"Why are you here?"_  
    "Shinigami is here."  
    _"What are you doing?"_  
    "I'm..."  
    _"What are you doing?"_  
    Duo held his head.  
    "Leave me alone."  
    _"What are you doing, Shinigami?"_  
    "I..."  
    _"Are you afraid?"_  
    "St... stop it..." Blood welled in the cuts on his face as his fingernails dug into his skin.  
    _"What are you afraid of, Shinigami?"_  
    "Nothing. I am afraid of nothing!"  
    _"Is that true?"_  
    "I don't lie!"  
    _"Is that true?"_  
    "I run and I hide but I never lie!"  
    _"... is that true?"_  
    "..."  
    _"What are you running from?"_  
    "You..." Duo lowered his red hands and was faintly surprised to see the ground.  
    _"What are you hiding from?"_  
    "Myself." He huddled down against the solid surface behind him. It didn't matter if it was a tree or a wall. All that matter was that it supported his weight. "Am I... am I crazy...?"  
    No reply.  


* * *

[_And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love._]  
  
    It was a sensation that was long forgotten. Too forgotten. It cleansed, but as it did, it burned. The confused young man didn't know if or how to welcome them, or curse them as they rolled lazily, then with haste down his cheeks.  
    '_I won't hold this back anymore... These tears are for you, Duo. They are for you. If only you could see them... but I don't think I can. I'm not strong enough to let you see me cry. But... I thought that tears were a weakness... why did you have to turn everything inside out... I feel lost... I don't even know what it means to feel lost..._'  
    Curled up in the corner of the bathroom, Heero stared up at the plain brown board that used to be the mirror. The shards had long been swept up, and the floor was so clean one couldn't imagine blood having ever been on it. Still though, every so often Heero would find a tiny splinter of glass that he'd missed.  
    His eyes fogged over.  
    '_Every time that I think that I've come a little further... every time I think that I've cleaned up all the shards... I find yet another splinter to wound us... and now I wonder... even if I manage to sweep all those harmful shards away... is it too late... has the glass already cut you so badly that you can't even survive...? Hn... if anything, it was I that stabbed you, wasn't it...? Shit... I'm even beginning to think like you... I thought I owned you but... in reality, it's you who controls me... and the damage of my foolhardy assumption has already been inflicted..._'  
    He sighed and shook his head, lifting his hands to cover his face. He slowly let the calloused, yet still sensitive pads of his fingers trace over the wet tracks on his cheeks, revelling in the knowledge that they came from his eyes, and no one else's. So many times he had seen them fall down other cheeks, and each time he saw them, he had to wonder of they would ever again grace his own cheeks. He could remember crying as a child, but it had been so long since...  
    And of course, only Duo... only Death, could finally bring his tears back.  
    He had been taught to follow his feelings, and finally, he was truly beginning to. He only hoped he would be able to learn to do so in time to help Duo.  
    '_I'm used to sacrificing things... it was a part of my life as a soldier... but this is different... this is Duo... but why should it be any different? Why should I sacrifice myself for a mission but not for Duo? I can honestly admit to myself that Duo is more important to me now than _they_ ever were... if I can follow my-...  
    'People think that I don't understand... but they're wrong. I'm not oblivious... I know what love is... what friendship is, and relationships... I know what they are, and how they work, but-... I've only ever seen others experience them. I know what is expected of me... I know what I need to do but... I've never felt them myself, I do not know how to-...'
_  
    Heero's head snapped up as he heard the faint sound of a key scraping against the lock, as though someone was having trouble centering the key. It didn't matter though. That sound meant...  
    "Duo."  


* * *

[_And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  
I won't fear love._]  
  
    Duo clawed desperately at the cold, unresponsive wall. He shrieked with anger, hitting it with even more strength as though to force a reaction for it. Why? Why couldn't he wound it? He just wished that it would scream, beg, feel silent terror... crumble. Something to show his strength over it, but all that happened was a few chips fell from its bricks and plaster, and a couple of cracks appeared.  
    What had he been thinking? Why had he let himself be pulled in like this? He thought he had had control over the situation. When had he pressed Heero against the wall in Luxembourg and kissed him for the first time, he had been so sure that he had total control over himself, the boy under his lips, and the situation in general. At the time, he didn't even know if Heero would respond or not. Even better - he hadn't cared if he would respond or not. It all would be so easy if he didn't care so...  
    He leaned heavily against the wall, his forehead connecting with the gravelly stone. His shoulders hunched up by his cheeks, and his fist rested against the brick, by his face. He shut his eyes tightly, as though to will away the world.   
    He felt the numbing blanket come up around him, making the world warm and distant, like an anesthetic running through his veins. It was like viewing the world through a television set. As much as he wailed and screamed inside, everything was dead and blank outside. If he could stay here, in this state, despite the pain, he could be safe.  
    After that, everything outside was a blur, and the trek from the cold, uncaring brick wall to the physical safety of his Preventer dorm passed in a hazy moment of elapsed time. The rain that drizzled on the dull brown hair was unnoticed by it's owner. When he stared into the prussian blue eyes that confronted him from across the threshold, Duo wondered when Heero had gotten here, as though he didn't even realize that he had walked to Heero himself. The Japanese boy pulled him into the dorm and into his arms, holding the sopping wet youth to him tightly.  
  
[_Peace in this struggle..._]  
  
    Heero's hands wandered lazily through Duo's damp hair, noticing again how pale and thin Duo looked beneath him. With a soft sigh, he carefully moved the damp mass away from Duo's shivering body. He brought the blanket up around his partner's shoulders, only to be frozen in place when the violet eyes that he both feared and followed opened without warning.  
  
[_...to find peace..._]  
  
    With more tenderness than he had ever used before in his life, Heero buried his hands beneath Duo's back and lifted the limp form to him. Resting Duo's head against his collar bone, Heero pressed his cheek to the soft crown of hair. The Japanese boy shut his eyes and gathered the chilled warmth of his lover to him.  
  
[_...comfort..._]  
  
    Duo breathed in a scent more familiar than his own and tried desperately to remember how he had come back into Heero's arms. Those hands that could bend steel carefully tugged him closer, and Duo fell forward into the comfortable silence that thrummed between him and his partner.  
  
[_...all the way..._]  
  
    Duo bent his head back, his back arched like a swan's neck, one strong hand supporting him, keeping his dip from becoming a fall. Heero held the almost fragile boy in his arms, knowing at the same time that Duo was stronger than that. They both remained silent, but Heero leaned down, pulling Duo up so that his lips grazed Duo's ear. The room was silent, still and dark.  
  
[_...to comfort._]  
  
    Heero's hand slipped beneath the loose shirt he had placed on Duo to replace his Preventer's uniform. His hand lingered over the soft skin at the delta of Duo's ribcage, then continued towards his neck, pulling the shirt with it. He carefully lowered Duo to the bed again, gazing down at the startlingly mortal boy who had willingly befriended and brought to life a toy soldier - in exchange for himself.  
    "Duo..." Heero couldn't say any more, but he tried his best to communicate his gratitude through the tender touch of his roughened hands that night.  
  
[_And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love._]  
  
    Heero stared at the boy beside him, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Duo slept on, oblivious to Heero's stare, his features angelic, but too gaunt and saddened to be one. A dying angel. The Japanese boy traced Duo's collar bone with one finger, fascinated by the texture of Duo's skin. It was amazing how many things he had just blatantly taken for granted. Color, texture, sound... the very warmth that Duo emitted, despite the coldness of his too-thin fingers. At the other end of the room, his computer blinked silently.  
    Heero stared over at it, then lowered his head back to the pillow to stare across at Duo's lax face. He scooted a bit closer to him, pressing one hand to the other boy's bare back, and pulled his limp body to him, cradling him in his arms. Ignoring the light on the computer, Heero nuzzled softly at Duo's lips, causing the other to stir slightly. Heero stroked and petted the long locks of chestnut until he heard Duo's breathing smooth out into the slow, regular pattern of sleep. With a small, hidden smile, Heero allowed himself to doze lightly on his recent lover's shoulder.  
    He drifted in and out of short cat naps, finally coming fully awake just after dawn. For about an hour, he just lay comfortably beside Duo's warm body, one hand resting on the slight curve of Duo's hip. He breathed in the scent that he had come to know so well, finally leaving the bed when the sun had risen over the horizon completely. With a soft sigh he made his way to the computer, flicking the mouse to bring the monitor to life. He sat down, hearing the faint sounds of Duo stirring. He brought up the new message, scanning it briefing as he heard Duo coming up behind him, leaning over his shoulder to also browse the message from their commander, Sally Po.  
    A small organization located on the eastern side of the South American continent was threatening to break out in a rash of unexplained, and unexpected violence. No statements had been made to the media, but Sally had had one of her groups keep an eye on them for awhile. Once missiles and other high explosives had been transported into the base, Sally had decided that it was past time for the group to be "dealt" with. She apologized for having to send them the case, but the other three were already assigned to missions, and she couldn't give such a dangerous mission to anyone else. Besides, the Preventers were not allowed to make such an open move against a faction, and she needed agents that she knew would cover their trail. She couldn't have this coming back to the Preventers. Encoded in the e-mail were their exact instructions and the coordinates of their destination.  
    Heero glanced over his shoulder at Duo, trying to gather the words on the tip of his tongue, but Duo just nodded and walked towards the bathroom to get washed and dressed.  


* * *

[_And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  
I won't fear love_]  
  
    Heero stared down at the base before him, cool prussian blue eyes observing every detail. In his hand he held a final detonator, along with a hand held com-unit. He listened to the quiet buzz of the static coming from the unit's small speaker, and checked the frequency on it for what seemed like the thousandth time. Normally he wouldn't be so jumpy, but as routine as this mission was, there was an element of it that just set him on edge. Duo was in there. And he was not.  
    Duo was in that base with some 20 pounds of explosives that would, sometime within the next hour, blow the base sky high. And it would be detonated by the small device in Heero's own hands once Duo radioed in to report that all the explosives were in place and that he was clear of the base. Once Heero received his go ahead, the base wouldn't even be a memory - it would just be a crater in the ground. But there were plenty of threats inside that building, and as sneaky as the braided boy was, it wasn't unimaginable that he could be caught and imprisoned by the base security. Heero resisted the urge to growl slightly, and glared down at the top of the base, as though it would help. Up on this high, distant cliff, Heero was already out of the blast zone - but Duo was not.  
    The explosives were pre-armed, to make for the fastest drop-off time possible, so the slightest wrong move, the tiniest stumble, could result in the death of the fey boy that shared his bed and more. His hand tightened around the detonator, and he checked that the protective case was still firmly clasped shut over the deadly red button.   
    He grit his teeth and fervently wished that it was he who was in the base, and not Duo. But it was Duo who was more skilled at stealth and espionage. Heero could run into that base and cause mass destruction as easily as that, without even a second thought, but he couldn't sneak in there with the same guarantee of escaping without discovery, and it was necessary that this mission be carried out without any loose ends. No one could know that the Preventers were involved in this very militaristic maneuver.   
    Heero glanced at the frequency tuner again, then turned the volume up a bit higher, shifting uneasily. He gnawed slightly on his lower lip, a habit he had picked up from watching Duo too often, and not quite prayed for Duo's deep voice to break through the static on the other end of the line.  
  
[_I won't fear love  
I won't fear love..._]  
  
    The Japanese ex-pilot leaned back against the uncomfortable stone behind him, not really noticing the uneven pieces of rock jutting into his back. 'Comfort' was not something a soldier required.  
    The entire situation was already beyond ridiculous. He and Duo had certainly achieved the status of 'love' by now. Heero hadn't directly experienced love before, but something in his gut just told him that this was it. This constant, agonizing need to not only be around the other person, but to ensure their happiness. Which was exactly what the problem was - Duo wasn't happy. Rather, he was the complete opposite. He was completely miserable. Suicidal, in fact. Heero was just thankful that it went against all of Duo's beliefs to commit suicide, because if it didn't, Heero was sure that by now Duo would be no more than another headstone among the many. The Japanese boy couldn't hold down his deeply felt shudder.  
    He couldn't stop the soldier's logic from taking over his mind and analyzing the situation coldly. In a way he was thankful for it. Perhaps it would lead him to the answer that he needed.  
    Now that he knew what the problem was, he had to work out the solution. How could he help Duo? To smooth out things between them would take a long time, but the first step was to get Duo's cooperation. And Heero couldn't think of any other way of getting that than to admit to the braided boy what his feelings were. The idea was more than a little nerve racking. Sitting down and talking to people just wasn't something he was accustomed to doing. It just wasn't necessary in his world before all of this. But it was his only hope of achieving the happiness that he had hoped for, silently, all through the war.  
    He nodded resolutely to himself. After this mission, all of this would end. He'd sit Duo down, and tell him exactly how he felt, even if it did take all of his emotional courage to do so. Duo deserved the truth. Duo deserved to be happy.  


* * *

[_And if I shed a tear..._]  
  
    Duo carefully set the final charge, hiding it on top of one of the rafter's that supported the roof of the central building in the base. Dressed completely in black, only his face and braid were visible in the shadows. As it was, the people wandering carelessly through the base never even glanced up at him. He could have easily made a fake I.D. and snuck in here with a uniform, but if someone looked closely into the bombing, they might be able to drag it back to the Preventers, so Duo and Heero had opted to send the Shinigami in unnoticed. Unfortunately, that meant that the slightest wrong movement could betray his presence and ruin the mission.  
    Duo slid down once of the support beams and landed silently, slinking along the floor like a panther stalking its prey. He paused when he heard voices, then leapt back to a safe hiding place without a sound, watching the guards pass him by, unaware. Duo silently tsked the security system here. It was absolutely horrid.  
    He slowly navigated the maze like network of hallways and tunnels, finally coming to what his map indicated was an exit. Leaping up, he grabbed hold of a pipe in the ceiling and hoisted himself up into the uncovered pipes, wires and vent shafts in the exit's final security system. He reached back and pulled two knives from his waist belt, staring at the two guards that prevented his dash to freedom. With a quick, deadly flick of his wrist, the knife was buried to the hilt in one of the guard's heads, penetrating the metal of his helmet. Before he could even cry out, the second guard shared his partner's fate. Duo smirked grimly, though there was really no morbid mirth behind it. He prepared to jump down, feeling something catch and tug on his neck. He laughed silently. That would be so like him... to complete the mission then jump down and hang himself accidentally with a wire. With a slight tug, the wire broke and he jumped down and quickly made his way from the base. He pulled up the com-unit from his waist.  
    "01, this is 02 - I'm clear." There was a moment of static before the nasal voice hailed him.  
    "Roger - 02, you have 45 seconds to find cover."  
    "Understood." He clipped the unit back onto his waist and continued running towards the cover of the forest. He was almost there, almost safe, when he noticed something felt very wrong. Something was missing. He paused, knowing he shouldn't, noticing that there was a feeling of bare skin on his neck that had previously covered by a thin necklace, and there was not the light tap of the ornament on his collar bone when he ran. With trembling hands he reached for his neck, where the wire had been, where the crucifix had been...  
    With a hoarse cry and whirled around and sprinted back to the base, mindless of the explosives he had set just a little while ago. With fervent hands he searched the floor desperately, finally clutching at the tiny golden chain, the edges of the cross digging into his hand, even through his gloves, with the tightness of his fist. With a strangled gasp of breath, he forced himself to his feet, turning to dash out of the base.  
    A scant five seconds later, the explosions began to blossom from the base.  


* * *

[_I won't cage it._]  
  
    The door of the safehouse slammed shut, and the boy let out a weary sigh, almost sinking to the ground right there, but managed to hold himself up, and walked towards the kitchen to prepare something to drink after the long evening.  
    Duo poured the cold coffee into a cup, then placed it in the microwave to heat it. As the machine whirred, Duo reached up and felt for the damp spot on his arm. He pulled his hand back and looked at the blood on it, knowing he'd have to bandage his arm up later, but he had been lucky to have even gotten out of that alive. The blast itself has sent him flying nearly fifty feet... if he were a normal human, he'd probably be dead. As it was, he felt pretty crappy, but he hoped the coffee would change that.  
    With an exhausted huff, the American fell back on the couch, holding the coffee mug in his cold hands. He felt so, so weary. It was worse than anything else he had felt before this. Physically he could barely manage to stand up, mentally he couldn't even process simple thoughts, and emotionally... emotionally he had worn himself down to nothing. Nothing at all.  
    He placed the coffee mug on the table before him and leaned back against the sofa. It was easier just not to think of anything at all. If he could be dead to the world without actually dying... If only...  
    He shut his eyes for a moment, staring at the blackness on the back of his eyelids, ignoring the faint throbbing in his arm from the wound. If only...  
    This love was his sin.  


* * *

[_I won't fear love._]  
  
    Heero tried to dispel the smell of blood surrounding him, hoping to look a little better than the dusty, worn soldier when he entered the cramped safehouse. He was tired and weary, but he was too determined to finish this now to let his exhaustion stop him. He never let his physical state get in the way of missions, and Duo deserved more effort than a mission did. Missions benefited people. Benefited a cause. Duo was far greater to him than that. With more hope than resignation, Heero entered their safehouse, shutting the door behind him.  
    The lights were out, and there was an odd heaviness in the air, as though the room was anticipating what was to come. The living room, which was adjacent from the door, was lit only by the faint light of the moon outside. In the living room, sitting silently upon the couch was the long haired boy that Heero was waiting to see.  
    The Japanese boy sighed in a relief, and smiled, then bit his lower lip and felt his muscles tense slightly. This was where it ended.  
    "Duo..." Heero gritted his teeth together at the blank look in his partner's eyes, and sat down on the chair opposite him. "Ne Duo... I... need to talk to you. I know that sounds odd, coming from me, but let me speak." Silence answered him, and for a moment Heero entertained the idea that it might be too late as it was, that Duo would be unwilling to listen to him, but he desperately dismissed it. "Sou... I don't know how to start this... Aa... I know I did things wrongly. I know how things _should_ be... but it's hard for me to make them like that. At least, just now it is. But you need to know that you _have_ made me happy... I think...no... I know... You've done more for me than anyone else even tried to do... and... I'm more grateful to you than I can express... so... all I can do is beg you to forgive me. Just... stay here with me. I'm sorry for everything, and I know I hurt you a lot... and hurt myself... but I want to try and make things better. That is... even if I don't know how. Just stay here... please? Even though I'm still learning... I'll try and do my best. I never thought I'd be begging you... but I am. Because I guess I love you. I don't know how or why, but I know that these feelings can't be anything else but..." He found, surprisingly, that he could say it again, as though saying it the first time had freed him. "...love. If it's not... then maybe love doesn't exist." He cursed himself - that wasn't the way to go. "It has to... because that's all there is right now. So... if it's possible... we can try, right...?"  
    There was no response.  
  
[_And if I feel a rage..._]  
  
    "Duo?" Heero questioned, his brow furrowed. "Duo, didn't you hear me?" There was still no response, and Heero frowned. "Duo... this is immature... at least reply to me." Still nothing. "Duo!" Heero felt his temper rise, and he almost stood up then. He reined it in though, remembering what this was supposed to be. If Duo refused him then... it was his choice. And Heero had already decided that he'd bow to Duo's will in this. He'd done enough damage already.  
    But the blank stare in Duo's eyes as he stared across at Heero chilled the Japanese boy to the bone. The glazed eyes... lax face... uncaring expression... Heero wrung his hands nervously. He didn't know what to do if Duo had already given in and let the spark inside him go out. Heero supposed that he would care for the shell of a body that Duo had left behind, feeding and looking after him, hoping that his lover would return to himself one day, but he fervently prayed that it wasn't like that yet. That he wasn't too late.  
    "Please... Duo... please reply... tell me what you think..." Heero couldn't keep the concern from spreading across his face. "Please... even if it's just to tell me to get out, I'll understand. Just... say something. Don't you care...? I love you..."  
    Duo didn't even blink.  
  
[_I won't deny it._]  
  
    Heero stared at Duo's unmoving form, worry creasing his brow. He slowly lifted himself, as to not spook the seemingly comatose boy. He moved from his chair over to the couch that Duo was sitting on and knelt down on the floor, looking up at the American.  
    "Duo...? Why won't you answer me...? Please answer me... I know I'm an idiot... even if I never told you... I always knew I was an idiot all the time... and I'm sorry that I made you suffer for it. I know I'm too late with all of this... but please just answer me... anything..." But there was no response.  
    Heero reached out and touched Duo's shoulder, and jumped back when Duo suddenly fell forward, remaining on the couch, but leaning forward. Heero blinked in surprise, and moved back to Duo, this time sitting next to his limp partner, lifting his body to a normal sitting position on the couch. Heero blinked again when he felt a cold wetness on his hand, and pulled it back to inspect it. In the darkness, it was impossible to see what it was, but it was dark on his hand. He sniffed it experimentally, and jerked his head back at the familiar metallic scent.  
    "Shit... Duo, you're hurt. Why didn't you tell me before? We need to treat that... at least show me where the wound is." Heero leaned forward to look for himself when Duo made no motion. "How'd you get hurt, anyway?" He checked over the American's back and blinked slowly. The dark stain was covering his lover's entire back, his clothing saturated in it. "Damn... Duo... this is really... bad..." He felt himself shudder, and tried to shake his head in silent denial. He lifted one shaking hand to brush against Duo's unnaturally cold and stiff cheek. "Du...o...?"  
  
[_I won't fear love._]  
  
    "....Duo?"  
  
[_I won't fear love._]  
  
    "Duo?"  
  
[_I won't fear love._]  
  
    "Duo!?"  
  
[_I won't fear love._]   
  
    ".........DUO!!!"  
  
[_I won't fear love._]  
  
    _I love you_  
  


>>>>>>>>>>>  
  
"I do not know if God exists.  
I do not know if _I_ exist.  
But I know that love exists."  
-J. Watson  
  
  


  
  
Fin Fumbling Towards Ecstasy 


End file.
